


Sleepless Night

by shineebigbang



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drugging, Drugs, F/F, Fantasy, Food, Medication, Mentions of Sex and Implied Mentions of Sexual Assault, Minor/Implied Major Characters in Death-Like State, Multi, Romance, Science Fiction, Swearing, Vehicular Assault, implied minor character death, vomit/nausea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:18:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineebigbang/pseuds/shineebigbang





	Sleepless Night

Minjung screamed into the blackness that surrounded her. She had no lungs, no eyes or mouth or body. She just floated in a hole of darkness that was slowly consuming her.

 

It was the same every night, every single time she slept. She was awake, but she was asleep, trapped in her own body. There was no such thing as a peaceful sleep for her. Never once, even as young child had Minjung completely turned off. She was never truly  _ gone _ . 

 

She cried out again into the black abyss of her mind, but it was silent. There was no reply bar the sound that echoed in her head alone. She couldn't move, she had no body, but she tried to scramble for sides of the pit that she fell into, desperate to try and halt her fall.

 

Minjung Choi had never been able to dream. Her mind just trapped her within itself, for hours and hours as she slept, though in her head time passed as slowly as if hours were days. She fell, every night, into a blackness that had no end. It wasn't a dream, it's grip on her was too real, too magnetic and cognant. She was awake, while her body slept.

 

When she awoke, staring into the light of her dorm as the sun rose through the window, her heart kickstarted, breath fumbling as she tried to calm herself with quiet whines for help. She was lucky to have a voice, most nights she awoke immobile and once again trapped until the tension in her limbs subsided. In the bed beside hers, Gwiboon hushed her, clambering in beside her to try and soothe her panicked, frozen, twitching body as her mind fought to remember where it was. Where she was.

 

The darkness followed Minjung every day, 

calling for her to just… nod off as she went about her business. It begged for her to  _ sleep _ . Minjung waited for the day that she finally could. 

  
  
  


\---

 

“No, Gwi, this is an awful idea.” 

 

Gwiboon flicked the wand of mascara in her hand in Minjung’s direction, almost staining black on the white shirt of her volleyball uniform. Minjung swatted her roommate's hand away, but all it resulted in was Gwiboon smirking at her in the reflection of her vanity mirror. 

 

“I don't know why you have to be such a killjoy all the time, Minjunggie,” Gwiboon smirked, finally applying the damned mascara to her false eyelashes and lidding the thing, “It’ll be fun!” She dragged out the word, like the longer she said ‘fun’ the more likely Minjung was to believe her.

 

“Yeah, it sounds like oodles of fun. Loads of drunk ass freshmen, and seniors who still think I want a threesome with them and some unidentified ‘hot chick’,” Minjung snapped, leaning on Gwiboon’s vanity so she could look at her friend’s actual face instead of her infuriatingly smirky reflection. Her real face was, unfortunately, just as infuriating and smirky.

 

“Come on, Minjung! I bet the reason you're so uptight is because you haven't gotten a piece of good ass since you and Irene-” Minjung straightened, turned her gaze icily onto Gwiboon.

 

“Okay, Gwi, I get it,”  Minjung cut in sharply, slamming her hand against the wood to make Gwiboon be quiet. The other just smirked, “And I'm not going to this damn party.” Gwiboon considered these words for a moment, slathering her lips in a glittering, pink gloss that seemed to drip from her lips like liquid. 

 

“I promise I'll stick with you the  _ whole _ night, Junggie…” Minjung rolled her eyes, retreating from the vanity. She was going to be late for practice, and then Irene really would be pissed at her, “And you don't have to drink, obviously. Come on, Minjung. You really wanna leave me drunk and alone at some stranger’s house?” 

 

With a heavy sigh, Minjung grabbed her jacket from where it hung, rumpled, on the top of her wardrobe door. Behind her, she could hear Gwiboon getting up too, in swift sweeping gestures collecting her own bag and jacket from the bed. Minjung waited outside the door for her, leaning her head back against the wall. 

 

It was always like this. Gwiboon could ask and ask and ask, and Minjung could say no until she went blue in the face, but it always ended up the same way. And they both knew it. 

 

“Have you got a change of clothes, or should I bring you something?” Gwiboon stuck her head out of the door, grin devious as she tucked a mechanical pencil behind her ear, keeping back the freshly-cut strands of blonde hair. Minjung groaned, and began to stamp down the hallway to the staircase at the end of it. Somehow, the racket she made made her feel a little better about the words that she spat out next.

 

“Does it look like I have a change of clothes?” 

 

From back at the dorm, Minjung could hear Gwiboon’s laughter: infuriating and smirky. 

 

\---

 

Minjung ended up late for practice. 

 

Gwiboon had taken her time picking Minjung out an outfit, as though it made any sort of positive difference to Minjung's mood. And as was their routine, Minjung had to walk across campus to Gwiboon’s class, wait for her to get in and find a good seat, and then walk right back past their dorm to the volleyball courts. 

 

Irene was waiting at the entrance to the courts, a hole in the chain netting that was only just tall enough to let Minjung through without brushing the top of her head with rust. She leaned against the iron poles that marked it as the entrance, eyes narrowing as Minjung hurried over. When she was close enough, Irene called out to her. 

 

“Still incredibly punctual, I see.” Minjung scoffed, unzipping her jacket. She just wanted to get in there and join the practice. Work off all her annoyance at Gwiboon, and her anger at her own inability to deny the other anything. Irene still leaned in the framr, completely in the way. 

 

“It's my bad, Irene. I'm sorry,” Minjung said stiffly, tensing her shoulders, ready to be berated. She had to admit, she had a gotten into the bad habit of being late to practice recently, and Irene would have her own ideas as to why. Her ideas would probably be right too. “Can I get to practice now?” 

 

“Listen, Minjunggie…” Irene began, running her fingers through her hair. It was a soft bubblegum-pink now, pastel and pretty, making her skin glow slightly pink along with it- a natural blush. Before, that would have made affection rush into Minjung’s blood, her heart throb with emotion. All Minjung felt when she looked at Irene now was a dull ache, empty loneliness, “If this is about  _ us _ , then you're always welcome to quit the team.” 

 

Minjung made an affronted noise, crossing her arms. Irene scoffed, mimicking Minjung’s actions, and Minjung couldn't help but wonder if Irene had meant to copy her or not. It flooded her with a little, pointless, false hope. 

 

“Well obviously I don't want to quit the team,” Minjung sighed, digging her ragged nails into her arms through the cloth of her jacket. She needed to stop thinking about Irene as anything other than her captain, “Look, I thought it would be a bit weird between us. Clearly I was right, but I'll get over it.” Minjung said it like a promise, gaze avoiding Irene’s face in a way she knew  _ Irene _ of all people would take the time to notice. If she looked away too long, Irene would mention it, so she quickly looked to Irene’s new hair instead, the way it glowed rose gold, ethereal in the low, afternoon light. 

 

Minjung really needed to get over herself. 

 

“Sure, I thought so too. But if we can be mature adults about this, then I'm not gonna stop you playing, Junggie.”  Minjung nodded, removing herself from the situation a little in her head, letting Irene’s gentle voice fade until it was a hum of words and sweetness against Minjung’s ears. Her eyes travelled away from Irene, away from the way she still clung to her beauty in Minjung's mind even though it was no good to her anymore. Minjung shook her head clear, pinching herself. She could be a mature adult. She could still be friends with Irene. It would just take a little time.

 

Irene seemed to sense that Minjung was done talking- she had always been good at telling when Minjung was tired of things- and moved out of the frame, sighing the same way she had when Minjung had shut out of their arguments. Minjung had never been good at telling when Irene was tired of things.

 

She stripped off her jacket, tossing it onto the pile of excess clothes and water bottles on the bench next to the door, jogging onto the court with the least people on it. Amber greeted her by tossing the ball at her, calling for her to serve. The match was a little uneven still: Amber, Minjung on one side of the court and Victoria, Krystal and Luna on the other. However… Krystal seemed pretty distracted, so the trade off seemed fair. 

 

In fact, the game ended up nearly entirely in Amber and Minjung’s favour. Even with Victoria and Luna on the other side, Krystal proved to be just in the way: constantly standing right beside the ball as it came down, mouthing something to someone outside the nets or gesturing wildly to them. Having had to deal with Irene and then having the party coming up in the future, Minjung was certainly in no mood to lose a game, and it showed. She was merciless, easily hopping high over the net, stopping the ball before it even came near the ground and hitting it too high for the others to reach. While Amber seemed to be enjoying that immensely, the other two seemed more than a little annoyed. Everyone was grateful, most of all Krystal, when Irene called time-out from across the courts, blowing one piercing whistle and in turn sending the teams all slowly in the direction of their water and the benches lining the courts. 

 

“Can't you go easy, Minjung?” Luna complained, falling onto Minjung's side of the court with a huff. Minjung just laughed, high-fiving Amber with too much energy, yet to have it burnt off by excersize. She was going to have to take a run before she could even imagine going to Gwiboon’s damnable party. 

 

Victoria slipped away to grab the water bottles, and Amber dropped onto the gravel, patting the ground next to her for Minjung, who gratefully took the space. She sat back on her hands, following the others’ gazes to Krystal. 

 

She had wandered away from the courts, to the entrance, or rather the exit from their angle, where a lanky, stick of a boy leaned, dressed like a shadow and about as distinguishable as one too. The only feature Minjung could make out, even with the light shining right onto his face, was the wide smile that took most of his visible head, bar the shock of black hair upon his head. He held his arm out for Krystal, and she slipped beneath it, letting herself be pulled into his chest for a very short, very awkward hug. 

 

“What's up with Krys?” Minjung asked finally, as the distant two began to engage in a conversation that looked hushed even from a distance. Amber glanced over, frown touching at her face very slightly. 

 

“Apparently that's her brother. He started as a freshman this year and Krystal seems pretty worried about him all the time,” Amber explained, looking back at Minjung, a strangely un-Amber-like flatness in her eyes. Luna looked away from Krystal too, eyes on the floor as she scraped grit from beneath the shadow of her leg. 

 

“If you’d been to practice recently, you’d know Krys has been bailing out for him like, every practice.” There wasn't any sharpness in Luna’s voice, but Minjung could easily tell everyone was a little annoyed that she had been bailing, more than just Irene’s habitual pettiness. 

 

“Why have you been missing practice? Irene seemed pissed about it. She said if you hadn’t come today she would kicked you off the team,” Amber butted in, clearly glad to be off the subject of Krystal and her brother. Minjung humoured them, assuring herself she would talk to Krystal or something later. It was very unlike Krystal to skip practice, and she wasn't the type to be easily distracted either. 

 

“You know me and Irene hadn't been doing so well...” Minjung looked over shoulder at Krystal. She was talking with Victoria and Irene by the exit of the court, her brother leaning up against the iron- netting. For a second, Minjung wondered if he was watching the girls start a new game, but then she realised no one was playing. He was looking right at her. Swallowing, Minjung looked away; his gaze felt heavy against her skin now that she knew it was there, like someone's cold fingers against her neck. When she looked back at Amber and Luna, their attention was thankfully on the other’s behind her. Minjung could only take so many expectant gazes on her at a time, and Krystal’s brother felt like he was draining her. 

 

“I think she's leaving again!” Amber complained, falling back against the court. Minjung didn't doubt it, not turning around for fear of seeing Krystal’s brother watching her again- she knew he still would be but seeing it felt like something completely different from just knowing it. “Irene will seriously stop her coming back,” That was also something Minjung didn't doubt. She knew Irene better than anyone else on the team, and she was sure that Irene wouldn't hesitate to kick anyone of them out with a good enough reason. 

 

Luna stood up with Amber following suit a moment later and Minjung trailing reluctantly behind. Amber and Luna strode ahead, Minjung held back by the intensity of the brother’s eyes; it made her want to cringe away from any contact at all and she certainly didn't want to be getting any closer to him. She forced herself to look up when she heard Irene's sharp voice.

 

“You can't just leave, Krystal! We have tournaments coming up. If you were going to keep bailing for Taemin, you shouldn't have signed up in the first place!” Irene snapped, drawing Minjung's eyes straight to her. Krystal frowned right back, not backing down. Krystal’s creepy, staring brother came closer, leaning just as Irene had earlier against the frame of the entrance. He commanded the eye in an unexpected way; the same way something deep and dark made you want to look and see something within it, even if you know there's nothing there. Minjung found that she was the one staring at him in this time, yet she still could not tear away her eyes. 

 

“If it was your family, wouldn't you put them first?” Krystal snapped back, not half as sharply as Irene.

 

“Yeah, they would. But this isn't about family, is it?” Irene leaned in, hushed but wanting everyone to listen, eyes narrow and digging. Victoria rested her hand against Irene’s shoulder, pulling her back with little force. Krystal said nothing, turning back to Taemin, as Irene had called him. His eyes stayed firmly on Minjung, despite the clear signalling from Krystal that she wanted to communicate with him through their eyes. 

 

“Let's just start practice again, Ire, everyone’s waiting. If Krystal is quitting, then she's quitting.” Victoria said calmly, guiding Irene back towards the courts where the rest of the team was sat, whispering to each other. They quietened up when Irene looked over, ready to leap to their feet as soon as Irene said the word. And with a sharp look at Krystal, she did. 

 

Minjung moved to follow Irene and Victoria back to one of the benches and watch over practice until Amber and Luna came back from talking to Krystal, but the moment she turned her back, she felt a cold arm grab onto her elbow. The grip was loose but still somehow strong enough to keep her stuck in her place. 

 

“Taemin!” Minjung felt herself be tugged back, right into the soft fabric of Taemin's t-shirt. She was much taller than him, but somehow he'd managed to pull her down to his chest when Krystal had pulled Taemin back out the entrance. “Taemin, what are doing?” Amber had gotten them between them in a moment, wrenching Taemin’s ridiculous grip on Minjung clean away, though his touch still made Minjung's skin crawl like bugs beneath her skin. The feeling didn't disappear even moments after Taemin had let go. Still he stared. 

 

“Minjung Choi?” he asked, huge smile spreading across his lips again. Like that he didn't look at creepy at all, more like a child, misunderstood. 

 

“Yeah… Sorry do we know each other?” Minjung replied, voice catching in her throat as she tried to rub the feeling of him off her arm. She knew she didn't know him, but if she worried it would upset him if she just outwardly and bluntly said she didn’t.

 

“No. One of my professor’s talks about you a lot. She talks like you're not in school anymore, I didn't think I'd see you here.” Taemin explained, easily, as if his behaviour had been even slightly appropriate for such a response. Minjung just smiled and nodded, turning to Krystal. She felt like she should feel better now she knew he wasn't just some creep, but she couldn't quite shake the chills he gave her.

 

“Krystal, you know Irene is serious. I'm sure Taemin can get through an hour or two of practice without you,” Minjung smiled, curling her lips into her most winning smile. More than she hated seeing Irene annoyed, she would hate for the team to fall apart over something like this, and she didn't doubt that it couldn't. The volley team was admittedly quite fragile and Minjung needed this team more than anything else. 

 

“Yeah! You can stay on one of the benches if you don't to be alone. You could even bring some of your friends to come watch!” Amber added, brightly, to Taemin though her eyes were for Krystal alone. Krystal frowned deeply, exchanging nonverbal messages with Taemin; she looked angry for a flash of a second, but it disappeared in less time than it had been there, replaced by a smirk on Taemin's end. It made him look older, and Minjung realised then that Taemin really looked ageless. She knew he was freshman, but past that she couldn't tell a thing about him.

 

“No thanks, guys. Tell me if Irene kicks off. I won't come back next practice if she says I can't.” Krystal smiled, almost falsely, linking her arm in Taemin's and letting him lead her away. He turned back for a moment as he let her slip through the thin exit first, mouthing something Minjung was sure was meant for her. It was too quick for her to decipher, and behind her she could hear Irene’s anger loud and clear. She looked between Luna and Amber, who both looked a little more than shocked, before slowly backing up to calm Irene. 

 

As she walked away, splitting from Luna and Amber (she would be no use for calming Irene), she had shivers go right up her spine, hard enough to give her pause. She knew, in the back of her mind, what it was. The chills in her arm got so bad she had to check there were no bugs scuttling across her skin. 

 

Taemin was looking again.

 

\---

 

Minjung didn't take a run after practice. 

 

Irene had been truly pissed when Krystal left, and worked the whole team on drills for the rest of practice- drills that didn't really even have much to do with volleyball, but made the whole cohort soak with sweat by the end of it. 

 

Practice overran too, so Minjung had to practically sprint across campus to the car park of her dorm building. In the pocket of her jacket, Minjung’s phone buzzed incessantly, slapping against her hip as she ran past her dorm building and the food hall not far behind it. Gwiboon was going to be a real pain now that Minjung was late. 

 

Minjung threw herself into the backseat of Gwiboon’s BMW, a new model though that was not something Minjung had really paid attention to while Gwiboon had been droning on about how great her summer had been. A bag that still smelt like the Victoria’s Secret perfume and body spray set it had once housed was pushed aside as Minjung slid across into the middle seat with the force of her entrance. She forgetting to buckle in as she breathed out an apology and rested her loosened and messy ponytail against the back seat. Gwiboon huffed, cutting her dark, heavily made-up eyes at Minjung in the mirror. The makeup looked different from how it had when they had left before practice and Minjung wondered just how long Gwiboon had waited for her. 

 

“You stink,” she scoffed, not un-fondly, starting up the car with precision that only came with her impatience, “Put those on, in the back,” She nodded to the bag beside Minjung. It was plastic but it looked expensive somehow anyway. Affronted, Minjung stared at it. The car was already rolling off campus, onto a public street. 

 

“Like, right now? Can't I change at the party?” Minjung asked, kicking her foot up against the back of Gwiboon’s seat to keep her steady as the car swung her back and forth across the seats. The look she was given in the mirror signalled that the answer was clearly no. Minjung slipped onto the floor of the car to change, tipping the contents of the bag all over the backseat so she could reach them easier. At least there was a near-empty bottle of perfume in the bag, obviously something Gwiboon had well loved, so Minjung didn't have to start the party stinking of sweat- not that she had any doubt she would stink again by the end of the night. 

 

By the time they pulled up at the house, Minjung had sat back into the backseat, her old clothes rumpled in the bag that wasn't quite big enough for everything to fit. Gwiboon fussed a little with her hair, pulling out the band that held it back in the crappy ponytail and letting the dark locks fall along her shoulders instead. After the touch-ups, Gwiboon tugged Minjung out of the car and down the street. There were people littered about the lawns of several houses on the street, and loitering with solo cups on the streets. Mostly everyone was making out. Minjung tried not to gag, joking at the making out and seriously at the stench of alcohol, grabbing onto Gwiboon's hand to stop her wandering off. Everything smelt like cheap beer and a little bit like drugs; Minjung just really wanted to leave. 

 

The music hit like a gust of wind when Gwiboon tossed open the door, the bass hard enough to make Minjung's feet jump off the floor if she stood still for too long. It was much louder in there too, everyone yelling to be heard over the music. Just thinking about spending more than a minute in the place gave Minjung a headache. 

 

“Joy is meeting us in the kitchen!” Gwiboon called, lips spreading sticky gloss across Minjung’s ear with how close she leaned to be heard. Minjung nodded instead of wasting her breath on trying to reply, letting herself be dragged along through the house, past the crowds to an even more packed kitchenette. Gwiboon lead them through the throngs with the grace and control of someone who had spent too much time in places like this. 

 

Though the kitchen was tiny, stuffed with pop-up tables of food and beer, and stuffed with people lazing about and taking make-out breaks, it did not take long for Minjung to locate Joy. She leaned against a wall next to the fridge, eyes wide and bright and searching. Her hair too, dyed a canary yellow, peaked out over the browns and blacks and tame blondes that made up the rest of the crowd. Gwiboon let go of Minjung to run over to her, pushing a couple watching a tiny game of beer pong clear out of the way. Minjung timidly apologised for her, slipping past them without so much as letting the end of her dress brush them. She caught up to Gwiboon, hovering a little behind the two as they embraced.

 

Joy was Gwiboon’s newest girlfriend; a friendly, gentle thing unlike many of the other people Gwiboon had dated in the past. She grinned at Minjung over Gwiboon’s shoulder, and when she was released she pulled Minjung in for a, much more awkward, hug as well. Gwiboon chuckled, taking an unopened beer from the counter on the other side of the fridge. She offered it to Minjung first, but uncapped it with a laugh at the disgusted look on Minjung's face.

 

Minjung didn't mind drinking, but the idea of drinking in some stranger’s house with beer that may or may not have been tampered with was just plain unappealing. Not that that seemed to bother Joy or Gwiboon in the slightest. They downed their first beers in the kitchen, chatting idly with Minjung about their respective classes (they were all going to be really stressed soon); if they could come to the volleyball game in a few weeks (they could); and why Minjung was so boring (they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol). 

 

Soon the couple wanted to go and dance in the other room, try some of the other drinks that lined the walls of the living room, or rather the dancefloor for the night. Minjung understood that they wanted to be alone without her, even though Gwiboon had promised to stay with her for the entire time they were there, and let them wander off together. She decided to go to the bathroom and calm down, and then just go sit on the grass outside for while. Maybe Amber would come and pick her up, if Minjung could get back into the car and pull her phone from her jacket. 

 

Minjung worked her way through the throngs, too polite and mild to push anyone out of the way, but slim enough to slip between separate groups of people that clogged the hallways. Unsure of where everything was in the house, or even whose house it might be, Minjung took a while to find the bathroom. In fact, she only spotted it because of the line of annoyed and drunk-looking people that were queued up outside the door, banging against the lock every few seconds and telling whoever was in there to hurry up. Minjung almost cried with relief as she joined the line. It felt good to be  _ doing _ something. To know that she would have something to occupy herself with for a long while. She contented herself watching the person next to her angrily text a study partner about when they could finish a project, amused by the quality of insults they hurled between each other. It was easy to tell neither of them were sober. 

 

Minjung felt the chills again, the ugly crawl of her skin, before she heard him.

 

“Minjung?” Taemin exited the hallway Minjung had come out of earlier, immediately finding Minjung through the crowds of people in front and beside her. Hanging off of his arm was someone Minjung only just managed to recognise, from her classes. He’d dyed his hair a startling black, and he wasn't wearing the glasses she was accustomed to seeing him in, but once he turned to face her, Minjung could see it was unmistakably Jonghyun. His soft lips pouted up at Taemin, eyes wide and frightened as Taemin dragged him over in Minjung’s direction. Shrinking back against the wall, wishing for nothing but Gwiboon to come and drag her away, Minjung stared at the floor. She rubbed her arm to try and rid herself of the horrible feeling that sprung again at the sight of Taemin. He came close enough that Minjung could see his and Jonghyun’s feet next to hers, both dressed in matching black boots. 

 

“Hey, again. I've been wanting to talk to you,” Minjung didn't look up, watching with feigned disinterest as Taemin took the tiniest step closer. Jonghyun stayed behind, nervously rubbing one foot against his other foot’s ankle. “We should all go somewhere a little more private, I think.”

 

“Taemin…” Jonghyun whined, but it was more nervous than legitimately upset. Minjung looked up that time to watch him nervously nudge at Taemin’s shoulder, wide eyes trained on Taemin’s. 

 

“Or just me and you could go.” Taemin shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and away from Jonghyun, ignoring the other man completely. His clinging interrupted, Jonghyun slunk back a little, turning his head away towards the front of the line, glancing skittishly between each person in the queue. 

 

“Sorry, I don't want to lose my place here…” Gesturing to the line, Minjung edged further back, pressing up against the wall and closer to the person in front of her in the queue. Taemin watched unhappily at Minjung’s movements, reaching out to take her arm in the same way he reached for Krystal earlier. Jonghyun’s eyes sharpened on her. 

 

“It doesn't matter; you won't need it,” Taemin grinned, a smile too wide for his face and for his cryptic words. The person Minjung edged closer to looked over at Taemin, eyebrow raised, but they swayed with an unsteadiness that betrayed their sober look. “I promise this isn't anything weird, I just want to talk to you- it's about Krystal.” 

 

That piqued Minjung’s interest, though she really wished it hadn't. Taemin could tell he had gripped her then too, by the way her gaze shot up to his dark eyes. He lowered his hand, tucking it back into the pocket of his dark jeans. Jonghyun shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, widening his eyes at Minjung repeatedly in a gesture she couldn't really understand; it felt like a warning, but Minjung was willing to put aside her own discomfort for Krystal. 

 

“Jjongie, could you go and get us all some drinks?” Taemin asked, stepping back out of the way of Minjung so he could lead them all to some less populated part of the house. Jonghyun scrunched up his face in obvious disagreement, but retreated back through the hallway to the kitchen anyway. 

 

“I don't drink alcohol,” Minjung said coolly, following as Taemin led her past the bathroom queue and the bottom of the stairs, out through a smaller kitchenette and into the back garden. 

 

“It doesn't matter, Jonghyun won't get any.” Taemin assured her, stepping out into the not quite fresh air of the outside. It smelt of smoke and vomit and alcohol out there, again with the inkling of drugs that Minjung couldn't place the type of. A smokable type. The garden was tiny, patchy, dying grass littered with spilling beer cans and smothered cigarettes, and people lying listlessly across the concrete patio next to the house. Minjung covered her mouth and nose as she followed, picking her way through the mess with care. Taemin walked ahead, heedless of the people or the objects, crushing cans and arms beneath his boots, digging hair and cigars alike into the dry dirt. 

 

The sky was starless and dark, moon hidden behind clouds that screamed of a coming storm, but the air was humid with the remnants of summer. They stopped at the property boundary, far from the house, a tall fence with cracking paint that split their garden with the one behind, directly beneath the greyest cloud in the sky. It crawled over Minjung’s head like it was trying to listen in. In fact, the whole world seemed to have stopped around them to eavesdrop: there was not a single whistle of wind, no bird call or cricket chirp or groan from the drugged-out guests that lay in the garden around them. 

 

Minjung felt the crawl up her arm again and she flinched, glancing around hurriedly. The bass still pumped beneath her feet, voices tickling at her straining ears. The world was still happening, but distantly.

 

“So, what is it about Krys-” 

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you're incredible?” 

 

Minjung paused, turning slowly back to Taemin. His face glowed against the darkness all around him, large and fitted, it seemed, around his huge mouth; it split apart his face to fit. His dark eyes lit up with sparkles like an excited child. Like all the stars had been snatched from the sky and trapped in the space between the whites of his eyes. 

 

“I know all about you- about your dreams, I mean,” he laughed, sounding much less excited than he looked, “That's what I really wanted to talk to you about.” Minjung looked away, too nervous to stay with her eyes on him. She had had people- doctors and psychologists- be interested in her before. They would prod her and poke her, ask her questions with no real answers and then shove under brain scanners and offer her pills that didn't really have any affect.

 

None of them looked at her like Taemin looked at her. 

 

“So, this isn't about your sister?” Minjung forced out, to relieve herself of his attentive stare for just a moment. Taemin’s focus, his attention, was far too heavy for her to carry. Taemin raised his eyebrows, smile flattening for a good few seconds, and she stared at him blankly too. His confusion only added to Minjung’s agitation. 

 

“You mean, Krystal?” he wondered out, words treading out from between his lips like they were stuck in his throat, “Why would we even want to talk about her? She isn't important right now.” The smile returned to Taemin’s face, his eyes skirting away from Minjung and back towards the party. The door swung shut in Minjung’s peripherals, and she glanced over. Jonghyun was coming, a shadowy silhouette against the lights from the kitchenette behind him. Neither Minjung nor Taemin said anything before he came over, though there was anticipation building in the atmosphere around Taemin, like he was a wind-up toy and Jonghyun was winding, winding, winding. 

 

Jonghyun held out a glass out to Minjung when he was close enough, his other hand holding a solo cup and a beer bottle tucked under his arm. Taemin snatched the beer away without missing a beat, flashing Jonghyun only a vaguely flirty smirk in thanks, which Jonghyun promptly melted at the sight of. 

 

“This is just water?” Minjung asked, hesitantly, taking the glass but prepared to tip it away if was some sort of liquor. Jonghyun nodded smoothly, moving to cling onto Taemin as soon as the glass was out of his hands. His eyes were heavily-lidded, directed at the ground like he couldn't stand to look at Minjung. She would have found it odd if she had not gotten this treatment from him every time she saw him. 

 

Minjung had only interacted with Jonghyun in classes, and he was always soft, gentle, quiet. More than that even. He didn't look at her, or anyone really, only speaking if it was absolutely necessary. Only looking at people with lingering, pining stares to their turned backs. It wasn't as if he appeared in class enough for anyone to care anyway. Out of the ten classes a week, it would rare for him to turn up to two. 

 

“It's just from the tap, so I don't know how safe it is, but I drank some earlier.” Came Jonghyun's gentle, belated response, breaking the crackling atmosphere clean in half. Minjung was almost surprised to hear it, his voice; it was almost unrecognisable so little had she heard him speak. She was glad for his presence though. He seemed to not only calm Taemin in some unexplainable way, but his familiarity was something comforting. 

 

“Like I was saying, anyway,” Taemin began again, having taken the largest swig of beer his mouth could expand to take. Minjung wondered where he stored all the extra space his face seemed to just… have. She assumed it came from the deepest depths of his eyes, “I know about your dreaming. I think it's fascinating.” Jonghyun tensed beside Taemin, head dropping to face the ground completely. The solo cup in his hand crinkled in the silence as he crushed it between his fingers. 

 

“I don't know what you think is so fascinating, Taemin. I just don't dream, it's not that interesting-” Taemin’s gaze became sharp again, and he tossed his arm carelessly around Jonghyun's little waist. Minjung took a long sip on the water when he interrupted her.

 

“But it is. It's more than that don't lie to me.” The starry-eyed look came back into Taemin’s eyes, but now it looked more serious, sinister. Knowing. “It's like, being awake in another world, right? Like staring into darkness for hours and hours on end, knowing that nothing is real and yet it's happening-” Minjung sniffed the drink. It tasted odd. Not rusty or unfiltered, or even particularly drugged up. And it certainly wasn't alcohol; it had to be, undeniably was, just water. 

 

“It's waking up disoriented and not sure you're that even real…” Jonghyun added, voice soft. Minjung glanced at him, feeling the heaviness of his words weigh upon her, “It's drowning in darkness until it's the only thing you can think about.” Taemin nodded enthusiastically, like Jonghyun was just quoting some scientific journal on the subject. Minjung had searched and searched, and she knew there was no such journal. 

 

Minjung took another long sip of water, not letting her gaze wander from Jonghyun even a tiny bit. He knew. He knew what it was like for her every night. And that could only mean one thing. Out of the corner of her eye, Minjung could see Taemin’s head bouncing between the two of them, eyes alight with excitement. Jonghyun kept his head down, not peeking up from the ground even once, the contents of his cup spilling uselessly into the dried earth. It soaked it up hungrily, darkening with whatever poisonous liquid Jonghyun had been willing to sip.

 

“I can help,” Taemin whispered, suddenly, drawing Minjung’s tired eyes to him, “I can make it stop. I can give you dreams.” Minjung scoffed and Jonghyun’s head shot up.

 

“What could you possibly do to give me dreams?” She snapped, gulping down the water in endless frustration, “You think people haven’t tried already?” Jonghyun pressed his lips together, turning the deep pink of his full lips to a ghostly white. Taemin turned to him, eyes communicative, and the two shared a conversation with their eyes, all meaning lost to Minjung. Finally, Taemin turned back, digging in the pocket Jonghyun did not hover over.

 

“These,” he breathed, holding out a small container, “are dream pills. Take them and you'll dream. Almost lucidly. You'll be aware, awake, alive. In your dream.” Minjung snatched the bottle away, finishing her water in one swift swallow and letting the plastic drop carelessly into the grass. It rolled away once, twice, like it was afraid. Minjung popped the container open, peering down at the pills inside. They were all an atrocious shade of… shiny. Minjung could not tell the colour, it seemed to be from completely new spectrum, but it glowed, shimmered, and shone in the darkness, reflecting a light that was not there. There were not many, hardly a full bottle but Minjung had a feeling Taemin had more, ready to deal them out should she beg hard enough for more, “They dissolve in water. Taste a little yucky at first apparently, but they get the job done.” Minjung stared at him, incredulous.

 

“Are you actually kidding me?” She turned to Jonghyun, “Do you take this crap? This is obviously some kind of designer drug, oh my God.” Minjung tossed the bottle to the pill bottle to the dirt, but somehow none of the pills spilled out. Minjung stared at the bottle for a moment, a terrible wave of nausea washing over her. Vomit rose in her throat, burning the backs of her eyes. She swallowed it down, batting away the feeling like it was just disgust for Taemin. “I can't believe you're going around, tricking sick people into thinking your  _ pills _ will make them better. You're just nasty-” The nausea came again, almost toppling Minjung from her feet.

 

“Minjung, please…” Jonghyun implored, face all soft understanding where Taemin’s was cold authority. Taemin's expression didn't suit his young face, twisting his youthful features into something older and more sinister. Minjung stumbled away, shaking her head, legs shaking from the weight of her body. Everything felt heavy. She tumbled inside, blocking the back door with her body as she tried to catch her breath. The world swam around her, fading in and out of the blackness that consumed her in her sleep. Minjung fell over herself, trying to call for Gwiboon but her voice stuck to the roof of her mouth. She was stumbling through the crowds of wasted party guests, past the queue of desperate people waiting for the toilet, up the stairs and into the first bedroom she found. It was occupied, but no one noticed as she fell into the closet opposite the bed and promptly hurled all over an ugly sequinned dress.

 

\---

 

Minjung Choi had never been able to dream. She spent her nights in suffocating silence. An overwhelming awareness that she was falling through nothingness every time she closed her eyes to rest. It was almost like a nightmare every night, but it was more real. Like being awake while she was asleep, trapped deep in a purgatory between wakefulness and slumber. 

 

Minjung Choi had never been able to dream. And maybe that was why when the bike hit her, it felt so real. 

 

There was the dizzying moment where Minjung stumbled forward, legs too shaken and jelly-like to carry her weight anymore, then the screech of tires on tarmac, a voice screaming for her to move, but there was nowhere to go. Then Minjung was staring up at the clouds, grey and thick and never-ending. They blotted out the sky completely, but somehow Minjung still knew it was night time. 

 

“Fuck, are you okay?” There was no longer the ashy clouds blotting out the stars, but a face. Long hair draping down and nearly long enough to brush Minjung’s face. “Fuck, fuck, shit. Please tell me you aren't dead.” Minjung blinked slowly. It felt like she should be dead: her body felt heavy and weak and bruised. The person stared down at her for a long second, clearly panicked, before Minjung felt arms beneath her shoulder blades and against her back. And then the ground beneath her disappeared, replaced by the cool night air and the warmth of the stranger’s arms. 

 

“We don’t have time for this. Leave her!” A voice called back from up the street, barely a whisper against the roar of motorcycles coming from every direction. The revs crashed against Minjung's weak body, painful as if they were hitting against her head with drumsticks. Whoever held Minjung didn't reply, but their body was tense against Minjung's. 

 

“Can you hold on?” They almost begged into Minjung's ear, walking the two of them back down the street hurriedly. The sky rocked above her with the movement. Minjung clenched her hands into fists, bending her arms at the elbow to test they could move. Though her body ached, it still appeared to be in working order. She nodded, not trusting her voice to reply properly yet. The stranger nodded, utterly careful as they set Minjung down into the seat of what Minjung assumed was their own motorcycle. They climbed in front, gripping Minjung’s arms and guiding them around their waist. Minjung slumped forward, pressing her front against the biker’s back to keep herself attached, and to rest her winded body. 

 

“Holding tight?” they asked, sweet voice just barely audibly over the bellow of the cycle as it rumbled to life beneath them. Minjung squeezed tighter in response; her body revolted, tensing uncomfortably at having been moved and then being forced to exert effort. Before Minjung could gather her senses and accustom her body, Minjung was flying. Both of them were flying. The stranger’s hair immediately swept back, a small curtain of warmth that tickled against the top of Minjung’s head. All Minjung could feel was the biker’s strong and comfortable back, the cycle itself feelinf like nothing at all beneath her. It felt like she was floating, wind slapping playfully against her sides. For a while, as they zoomed through the dark streets, Minjung felt as though she had hopped through space and was now somewhere completely away from the disastrous house party.

 

And then the motorbike started scaling up a building.

 

Minjung tried to scream, but the air was knocked from her throat, voice disappearing into the night as a miniscule puff of air the moment she felt the jolt of them starting up the wall. The world was tipped on its side all around her, bike climbing upwards towards the starless sky with a sickening clench of Minjung’s stomach. Swallowing back her illness, Minjung squeezed her eyes shut, gripping tighter onto the biker in her terror. They were going to kill her; they were really, really trying to kill her. In response to her fear, the driver let out a howl of laughter, speeding the bike up and steering them across shockingly sturdy windows and never-ending storeys, past jotting window edges and balconies until they ended up atop an apartment complex, legionsgloots above the ground Minjung had only just been knocked to. Her head spun, and as her stranger parked the bike in the center of the roof, Minjung stared up at the sky, gulping down air to try and settle her stomach. Misty clouds wrapped around the building, hiding them from the view of the rest of the world. The biker held the bike steady, letting Minjung calm down. 

 

“You sound surprised,” they mused, looking over their shoulder to smirk at Minjung. Minjung stared and stared, and then she screamed again.The stranger flinched, flicking the hair from their face, pressing a warm, slightly sweaty palm over Minjung’s shocked mouth. 

 

“We just climbed that building,” Minjung let out, voice still oddly pitched. They nodded, beginning to climb off the bike, holding out a hand to assist Minjung. 

 

“Yes,” they grinned, “yes, we most certainly did.”

 

Minjung dropped onto the cold floor of the roof, letting her head slam painfully against the slates. Everything washed over her all at once, an ugly wave of sickness and unreality and impossibility. Her stomach heaved. They had drugged her. It was obvious then. Jonghyun had dropped those pills into her water and she'd just lapped it up like a dog. Like she didn't know any better. And this. All of this around her, Minjung thought woefully, it was a dream. She hadn't really travelled up a building, or been hit by a motorcycle. She was just passed out in some stranger’s closet.

 

“Fuck.” Minjung muttered, squeezing her eyes shut tight and rubbing her hands over them, “Fuck!” She slammed her hand against the ground so hard it grazed her.

 

“Hey, hey. Careful, now.” The dream crouched down beside Minjung, catching her fist in their small, soft hand, “Are you hurting bad?” Minjung didn't open her eyes, letting the frown on her face deepen until it tugged at her face painfully. She jerked her hand out of the other’s grip, turning her head towards the dream. She figured that because she was dreaming she would have known what their name was, especially since she was so… lucid. 

 

“No… No, it's not that. I honestly feel a little sick.” Minjung breathed out, letting her hands slip down to rest on her stomach. It gurgled, appreciating, beneath her touch. 

 

“Yeah, that, uh, that happens the first few time you climb a wall on that old thing.” They tossed a tiny piece of grit towards the bike. It bounced off the metal, scratching away the gleaming metallic grey of the paint and the stranger smiled with almost too much affection, “It's a piece of shit, really, but I’ve had it for too long to just throw away, you know.”

 

“I'm Minjung.” Minjung let out, shocking herself by speaking. They turned to her, eyes hidden behind a light fringe, lips pouted out curiously. Their face caught a light that didn't exist, brown skin illuminated by what could only be the darkness. 

 

“Eunsook. I'm sorry that I hit you, Minjung. Everything's a little hectic right now.” Eunsook lay back too, marginally more careful than Minjung. They stared up at the sky, eyes half hidden by their fringe, glassy and thoughtful. Minjung felt her breath catch as she looked at them, the way the sky reflected in their dark eyes, clouded and restless, “Are you sure that you're okay?” Minjung just nodded, turning away to allow herself to breath again. 

 

They sat in silence atop the skyscraper apartment block for a long time. It felt like hours had passed in minutes. Minjung was so hyperaware of every human thing her body did. Every tick of her heartbeat, the pulse of blood against her wrist, every ache of pain and stutter of breath. She was alive, in this dream. She figured it was because she didn't know how to dream yet. Her body was so used to endless nothing at nighttime it just assumed that she was awake and alive in this dream because that was what she was used to. She wasn't hurt because she was dreaming, but her heart beat because she was alive. 

 

Eunsook seemed to understand that Minjung was out of it. Every now and then, Minjung would feel them, just looking at her. In her peripherals, she could see Eunsook staring, lips parted like they had something to say, but they stayed silent to the point it was almost maddening. 

 

“You're in a biker gang?” Minjung finally asked, voice carried away from the two of them by a sudden gust of wind, mixing with the clouds that never seemed to move. Eunsook laughed, a sound too joyous for the muted world around them. It echoed out above the hum of traffic and music and lifelessness from far below. Minjung didn't know how she knew to ask it, but the question came out naturally, as if it had been what Minjung had thinking about the entire time. 

 

“South Side,” Eunsook explained, rolling over onto their side and prompting Minjung to do the same. When she did, Minjung felt immediately compelled to look away again. Facing Eunsook was even worse; they were not traditionally pretty, but every feature of their face was so elegant and gentle Minjung couldn't tear her eyes away. Taking Minjung’s blank stare as confusion rather than attraction, Eunsook tilted their head, eyes scanning Minjung’s face with careful analysation, “You know, the second biggest gang in the city? Arch rivals of the West Side Scorpions?” 

 

Minjung snorted. She refused to believe her subconscious would place her in a city overrun by gang crime from the West Side _Scorpions_. Eunsook frowned, somehow making the gesture seem soft and delicate. Minjung paused, letting her face settle into a much more neutral position. 

 

“I don't know any West Side Scorpions, or South Side whatever's-”

 

“Shrews,” Eunsook interrupted.

 

“ _ Shrews _ ,” Minjung repeated despairingly. That was even worse than scorpions. “I don't know anything about this place in all honesty.” Minjung finished, matching the deep frown on Eunsook’s plump lips. 

 

“Did you like, lose your memory or something when I hit you?” Eunsook asked, urgently, sitting up on their elbow and blinking widely down at Minjung. 

 

“Of course not.” Minjung snapped back, not exactly shortly, sitting up too. Being looked down upon like that uncomfortably reminded her of Irene. “I'm not from, around here.” Minjung gestured out into the darkness. The clouds were too thick to see through, but Minjung figured Eunsook would catch her drift. And apparently they did. Eunsook gasped, bolting up into a sitting position. They grabbed Minjung by the shoulders, grip much tighter than their shapeless clothes would suggest. 

 

“You mean, you're from the north?” She whispered, placing their face close to Minjung's and staring almost desperately into her eyes. Minjung paused before she began nodding slowly. She most definitely had no idea what the north was, but it seemed like a safe answer as to why she was so clueless. Eunsook seemed to light up at this, kicking away from Minjung with a smile that lit up the dark night. “Why would you come here from the north, are you crazy?” Minjung flinched, rolling her shoulders until they stopped tingling with the sensations of Eunsook’s gloved hands against them. 

 

“I didn't really get a choice,” Minjung replied, bitter, as she thought back to Jonghyun and Taemin, how they'd forced her into this ridiculous, dreary dreamscape. Once she told Gwiboon what they’d done, neither of them would be able to walk out of their houses to even be able to consider handing out drugged drinks again. 

 

Eunsook cast her a pitying glance, surely completely misinterpreting the statement. 

 

“I've always wanted to see the north. I go to the gates every day that I can,” Eunsook’s eyes glazed over, clearly engulfed in a memory of some sort. There was a sadness, a regret, about them that Minjung crossed her arms across herself to keep protected from, “It looks so peaceful out there, nothing like this shit show.” They kicked another bunch of gravel towards their bike, showering the metal hunk in tiny pebbles. The paint came away in clean scratches, accompanied only by the sound of angry, ringing chimes. 

 

“Can't you just leave? Like, buy a house out there?” Minjung asked, cautiously, well aware she had no idea what she was talking about. Eunsook scoffed, cluing Minjung into the fact she had been way off base. 

 

“You really are from the north, aren't you?” Eunsook chuckled, strolling over to their bike and examining the damage, “I’m in a gang, Minjung-” Minjungux shivered involuntarily at the sound of her name from Eunsook’s lips, “I can't just up and leave. They'd hunt me down, even outside the gates. And it's not as if I could get out of them anyway.” Eunsook lifted her bike from where it lay on the concrete, moving as easily as if the bike weighed nothing at all. There was some intimate familiarity in the movement’s fluidity that made Minjung’s heart skip a beat- not out of attraction, though that was certainly part of it- but because something in the back of her mind was reminding her that she was watching Eunsook in an unusually raw state. The reminder that she was dreaming killed the feelings that were brewing in Minjung and she hopped to her feet too, casting Eunsook a questioning glance.

 

“If I could, I’d take you back with me,” Minjung said softly, following Eunsook to the bike. Eunsook watched her move through her reflection in the bike, distorted and mismatched. 

 

“If I could, I'd go back with you,” Eunsook agreed, staring at the bike for a little longer than what felt like an hour. Minjung had forgotten about the aching in her limbs, the exhaustion of her confusion, and it caught up to her then, as she waited for Eunsook to make a move. But as it had been before, Minjung had to talk first. 

 

“Were you running from the West Side when you hit me?” Her body complained at the reminder, but there was little pain left anymore, soaked away by her brain remembering the unreality of the situation. Eunsook dragged their eyes from the motorcycle, up Minjung's trainered feet and the distasteful sparkle of Gwiboon’s dress, finally landing on Minjung's cheek. They couldn't bring themself to look Minjung in the eye as they shook their head.

 

“It was actually East Side. They won't have concerned themselves looking for just us. Especially since they probably figured I’d take you to a hospital.” Eunsook assured, “It’d be a different story if they recognised you as one of us but… East Side aren't really about civilian casualties.” 

 

“And West and South Side are?” Minjung asked, hesitantly. Eunsook just smirked, letting out a gentle huff of air. 

 

“Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to.” Minjung sharpened, both insulted by Eunsook’s manner and annoyed that her subconscious was so uncreative and annoyingly unoriginal. 

 

“I didn't,” she snapped back, crossing her arms across her chest in a little huff. The only reaction it earned her was an adoring giggle from behind Eunsook’s hand as they climbed back onto their bike, which Minjung certainly didn't appreciate. Minjung kept herself rooted to the ground, both in protest and in curiosity. No matter where Eunsook took her, Minjung was well aware that at some point she was going to have to wake up, and she wasn’t quite sure how that was meant to happen. Even though she knew it was a dream, Minjung felt a strange attachment to Eunsook, she didn’t want to just… disappear. Eunsook took a second, bringing the bike to life, before she turned to Minjung again, smiling so sweetly that Minjung was compelled to walk over then.

 

“Get on.”  Eunsook hit their hand against the space behind them on the seat; Minjung shook her head.

 

“Why would I get back on a bike with a possible murderer?” she smirked, much to Eunsook’s obvious grievance. Eunsook turned back around, head tilted towards the handlebars of their cycle as if in thought, and Minjung felt her smirk grow at the thought of winning the game she had started up in her head. 

 

“You don’t.” Minjung snapped her head towards Eunsook; they sounded so serious all of sudden, the banterous tone having completely disappeared in favour of a cold distance, and the revving of the cycle. Eunsook tightened their hands around the handlebars. They didn’t have a helmet, but in the dream world, Minjung guessed they didn’t need one. It looked like they were getting ready to leave her there. 

 

“Eunsook…?” Minjung unhooked her arms from around herself, stepping forward with an outstretched arm. Eunsook was going to leave her. Eunsook revved the bike to drown her out, and then they were shooting off. At first, they were headed straight for the half-wall at the side of the roof, there to stop people just walking straight off, but they turned at the last second, circling back and around Minjung. There was a large frown engulfing their features, dragging their entire face into something dark and sullen. No more light shone in their eyes, and finally the sky reflected in them perfectly. They circled Minjung a few times, expecting Minjung to say something first, puffing up clouds of exhaust and dust at Minjung’s face. It fogged up all around them, in between them, until Minjung could only tell where Eunsook was by the volume of the bike’s movements. That bike really was a piece of shit. “Eunsook, what is it?” she called, turning her head in the direction of the cycle. She saw its metallic paint glint amidst the cloud.

 

“You said it yourself, why would you get on a bike with a murderer?” Eunsook called back, already on the opposite side of the circle. Minjung spun to face them, but they moved too quickly. 

 

“I didn’t call you a murderer!” Minjung almost rolled her eyes. There was definitely a part of Irene in Eunsook. Her subconscious had just given her another temperamental partner to argue with. She was done with this dream, she wanted to wake up.

 

“You implied it. You don’t even know that I’m not,” Eunsook said back, their circle becoming wide and distracted. Minjung breathed in heavily, turning to Eunsook. They had slowed down, it was easy to watch as they came to a slow halt in front of her. The two shared insincere frowns across the short distance between them, listening the buzz of traffic below. It sounded like there were motorcycles down there, much smoother than Eunsook’s, and it made them flinch. 

 

“Then why not just leave me up here?” Minjung asked, voice softening. Eunsook looked away, blushing. It suited them, Minjung thought, in a strange way. Brought about a new gentleness to their already tender face. 

 

“That wouldn’t be fair... I brought you up here, I hit you with my bike, I can’t just leave a pretty, defenseless… girl? Up here alone, can I?” Minjung raised her eyebrow, smirking a little. Eunsook flashed her a goofy grin, all signs of their upset having vanished. Looking at the ground, Minjung approached the bike, hesitant in case Eunsook was still mad at her. If they were, they made no clear indication, and Minjung was climbing onto the bike moments later.

 

“Girl.” she confirmed, wrapping her arms around Eunsook’s waist, clinging tight. Now that she was less out-of-it there was a nervousness being to settle in Minjung’s stomach. “You?” she asked back, fast so she would be heard over the rumble of the motorcycle. Eunsook revved the bike again- Minjung had a feeling that they liked to do it simply for show- and laughed over the sound of it. It all rebounded in the air, touching at Minjung’s ears in a way that made her spine twist with shivers and her heart pound. This, all of this, she reminded herself, was a drugged out fantasy, an unwanted dream. It meant nothing. 

 

“I don’t know; not a girl, not a boy, not anything.” Eunsook called over the engine, in a voice that made Minjung unsure whether they were joking or not. Before she had time to question it, the bike was leaping from the rooftop and Minjung was screaming and Eunsook was laughing, laughing, laughing.

 

\---

 

Somehow (Minjung had found herself thinking that a lot in this dream world) Minjung knew that she had to get Eunsook to take her to the river. She didn’t know what she would have to do when they got there, but her brain was in a constant state of screaming, ‘river, river, river’. The ride was pleasant as soon as Minjung had stopped screaming and Eunsook had stopped laughing at her for it. Eunsook didn’t say much of anything, but Minjung didn’t really expect them to, and there was nothing for Minjung herself to say other than ‘goodbye’. But that, Eunsook wouldn’t understand with all the explanation in the world, nor was it an exactly nice thing to think about. So they rode in silence. The sky was still dark and cloudy, not a peek of sunlight or movement from above, though Minjung was sure that it had been hours on end. 

 

“Shouldn’t we be wearing a helmet?” she asked, absently, raising her eyes from the endless expanse of skyscrapers to the sky directly above her head. The wind didn’t whip at her face like she would have expected at such high speeds. Eunsook glanced over their shoulder briefly, questioningly. 

 

“A what?” they called back.

 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Minjung stared incredulously at Eunsook, who stared back bewildered, “Just look at the road, oh my God…”

 

“Are helmets something from the north? Will you bring me one if you’re going back?” Eunsook asked, excited, taking a sharp turn that almost flung the two of them of them off the bike. Eunsook swiftly righted them, bringing them to a lower speed as they began to ride along a footpath beside the river. 

 

“Yeah, totally; if you don’t kill me first!” Eunsook giggled, shyly, turning them over onto a bridge. It hung low over the murky waters, and the black depths seemed to swim before Minjung’s eyes. Without thinking, her body drew off of the bike, clinging to the side of the bridge as she leaned over. Eunsook leant the bike on the railing, coming to stand beside Minjung.

 

“Did you come for the view?” they teased, shoulder brushing Minjung’s, “This shit is nasty, no offense.” Minjung wanted to reply, but her lips were glued shut. She just stared into the water. “Minjung?” Eunsook’s voice wasn’t their own.

 

“I’m good. You can go now, I need to walk back from here,” Minjung breathed, taking a large, gulping breath. She felt the nausea come back, the urge to vomit out her entire stomach. Eunsook looked concerned, gently reaching out to touch Minjung’s arm, but it was too awkward. It made her skin crawl. “Please. I’ll bring you your helmet soon,” She tried to laugh but it came out in gasps. There must have been some desperation in Minjung’s eyes because Eunsook stumbled back into their bike, knocking the old thing over into the dirt. They looked concerned, eyes flitting from Minjung's sickly cheeks to each of her eyes in turn.

 

“Where?” they asked finally.

 

“I’ll find you,” Eunsook disappeared. Just straight up vanished. Their bike lay on the ground at Minjung’s feet, but the railing that had stopped it slipping into the river was gone too, letting the bike fall into the dark emptiness of the water. Minjung screamed; she would have screamed. The darkness was back, the pills had worn off, it was pulling her in. The bike had gone too, before Minjung had the wherewithal to reach out for it. She screamed. Her legs were not her own, they lead her towards the edge of the bridge despite her shrill protests. The abyss called for her wordlessly. And her legs tipped her over.

 

\---

 

Minjung took a huge gasp of air. Everything smelt like vomit and sweat and…

 

“Gwiboon?”

 

“You fucking idiot!” Gwiboon shrieked, smacking relentlessly at Minjung’s chest. Minjung squinted, aware that her eyes would sting at the light. She could barely make out the figures in front of her. Gwi and Joy, she assumed. “I can’t believe you got so shit-faced! You don’t even drink,” Minjung’s eyes got wider. Joy was looking down at her over Gwiboon’s shoulder, and though more quietly, she was clearly more distressed than Gwiboon.

 

“I didn’t,” Minjung snapped, bluntly. Her head ached furiously. “Some fucking creeps from class drugged me…” Gwiboon straightened; Joy gasped.

 

“No!” Minjung interrupted, fighting the urge to cover her ears by letting herself flinch at the volume of her voice, “It was about my dreaming, Gwi,” Gwiboon scoffed, “No, seriously. The one guy, he was so creepy. He kept asking me about it, how it felt. He wanted me to try his weird dream pills or whatever,” Minjung explained, pushing herself to her feet using the closet door and Gwiboon for support. Joy hovered nervously behind them for a minute as they made their way out of the bedroom, before she reached out and held Minjung by the shoulder in something like comfort. The stomach-clenching nausea was back, if it had ever left, leaving Minjung constantly having to stop and dry heave. Her throat felt raw with the repetitiveness of it.

 

“So he fed you his ‘dream pills’? Like drugs?” Gwiboon asked once they had made it outside. Her voice was heavy with emotion, and she gripped Minjung much too tightly to be comfortable.

 

“No. I wasn’t high.” Minjung almost asked it. She had never been high before to know what it was like, but it hadn’t felt real enough, to be a hallucination. She had known she was dreaming, “It really worked. I was dreaming…” she whispered in almost disbelief, “It felt so… Gwi, I dreamt.” The events of the night finally caught up to her, and her knees buckled with fatigue. Gwiboon frowned, lifting her back to her feet. Joy became more of a help, assisting Gwiboon in half-dragging Minjung to the car at the end of the street.

 

“Was it really all that exciting? Don’t get yourself all worked up, you aren’t taking these things again.” Gwiboon said, sourly,

 

“I know, but…” Minjung thought of Eunsook, of their wide smile, their ugly bike, their gentle voice. They had felt so real, “It was nice-”

 

“Those sons of bitches!” Minjung glanced up at Gwiboon and then to the hood of the car where she had been looking. Next to the windshield was a bottle with a note sticking out of the lid.  _ The pills _ . Minjung fell into Joy with force as Gwiboon shoved her away. Gwiboon tore the pill bottle from between the wipers and tossed it into the grass, tearing the note up along with it. Minjung watched with a disconnected sadness as the bottle rolled into the tall grass and disappeared.

 

“They talk to you again, Junggie, I’ll tear their dicks off.” Joy helped Minjung’s heavy legs into the backseat, buckling her in despite her insistence that she was fine. 

 

“Taemin and Jonghyun,” she whispered, “Those are their names.” Gwiboon nodded, slamming the car into drive.

 

\---

 

Gwiboon had begged her not to go. The entire time Minjung had been dressing, Gwiboon had tossed her clothes across the room, told her that she would get Irene to kick her out of volleyball, would go straight to the professor and report harassment. Minjung hadn't been bothered at first, ignoring any harsh words, collecting her clothes with as much dignity as she could muster. Gwiboon wouldn't follow her to class, so all Minjung had to do was get through the torment of their dorm. 

 

She knew Gwiboon was only worried about her. After all, Jonghyun was in Minjung's classes, and after he had drugged her and left a note on the car suggesting it wasn't the last time, neither Gwiboon nor Minjung were especially looking forward to seeing him again. But Minjung wasn’t about to sacrifice her education for the fear of some unrelenting assholes. It really was Taemin that unnerved Minjung more anyway. Jonghyun had seemed, at least, to be a little remorseful about what he knew he had done. Taemin had seemed excited for it. 

 

“You aren't going to volley either, Minjung,” Gwiboon told her, fruitlessly, taking the laces from one of Minjung’s trainers, tying it into a tight knot and tossing it across the room as Minjung tugged up her yoga pants. Half of it rolled under the bottom of the door. Minjung glared sharply at Gwiboon who simply smiled back, like she was innocent, “Not only will they definitely come creeping at practice, but Krystal will be there.” 

 

“What's wrong with Krystal?” Minjung bit the bait, sulking across the room to retrieve her lace. She struggled with the knot for a while before she tossed it on the floor again and went back to her drawer to dig out another lace. 

 

“She told you Taemin was her brother? So either, she lied, or she's been feeding him information about for years- her and Jonghyun!” Minjung rolled her eyes.

 

“Doesn't that sound a little  _ Conspiracy Theory _ , even for you?” She asked, finally tugging out a lace of nearly the same colour as the other one and turning back to thread it into the shoe. Gwiboon was holding up the empty trainer, and Minjung turned just in time to see it fly past her and behind Gwiboon’s bedside drawer, “Gwiboon, I swear to God-!” She snapped, clenching her fists at her side to try and calm herself down. While she understood that Gwiboon was just trying to look after her, she didn't have to be so infuriating about it. The more she acted like this, the more Minjung wanted to do everything they both knew she shouldn't.

 

“My bad,” Gwiboon sung, clearly not threatened at all by Minjung’s anger. Minjung stomped to the drawer, fishing the show out from behind it. It was relatively easy considering the length of her arm, though the muscles that bulked along it caused a little bit of an issue, what with Gwiboon pushing lightly on the drawer with her foot so that it pressed back against her arm and trapped it. “Minjung, why won't you just stay for today?” Gwiboon asked, suddenly serious, as Minjung managed to retrieve the trainer and pulled it back out from the space.

 

“I’m not going to surrender my life to two guys I've only talked to once, Gwi,” Minjung sighed, lacing up the shoe, “I know they're no good now, so I just won't go near them.” She tried to assure her  roommate; Gwiboon still looked entirely unconvinced, but it didn't matter because Minjung was already halfway out the door by the time she was done speaking. She didn't hear Gwiboon get up to follow her, or even call after her. That meant she was in trouble when she got back, not that she cared. Minjung wasn't anyone's to control, she would do what she thought was right. 

 

And in the end, she had been right. When she got to class, there was no Jonghyun to be seen, nor any Taemin lingering around next to the exits or on the entire way to volleyball either. Maybe after one go, the boys had gotten bored of her. Somehow Minjung doubted it.

 

\---

 

“What are you doing here?” Minjung tossed her bag down on the bench, shuffling through until she found her bottle of lukewarm water. She didn't want to turn around, but she set her face and shoulders, not wanting to let it show. 

 

“I'm coming to practice,” Minjung stated, looking down at Irene. She stood with her hands on her hips, making a show of disciplining Minjung in front of the rest of the team, as she always had since they broke up. Minjung looked over Irene's shoulder at the rest of the team. She could see Luna and Amber on the far court, grimacing at the choice of Irene’s words; Minjung knew they were meant to cut her, so they ended up wounding her less. However, she did notice a suspicious lack of Krystal. Victoria had buddied up with a few of the newer members but Krystal was nowhere to be seen. Minjung wondered whether she had underestimated Gwiboon's idea that they were all in cahoots after all.

 

“Not an hour late, you're not,” Irene snapped, though, despite everything, there was still a gentleness in her voice- a choice. If Minjung left now, Irene would let her come back. Amber was coming over, her face reading like she was ready to mediate, but Irene cut her off before she could even get close. “Where were you?” she asked, lower, to Minjung rather than exampling her to the courts. 

 

“I had to go and get my jacket,” Minjung replied, curling her hands around her water bottle, wringing it between her fingers, “I left it at a house party last night,” she went on, when Irene raised an annoyed eyebrow, doubtfully.

 

“You went to a house party?” Irene snapped, unconvinced,  “Gwiboon made you go to a house party?”

 

“No, I wanted to go. Gwiboon can’t make me do anything,” Minjung retorted, and it was true too. If Gwiboon had as much control as she liked to think, then Minjung would be back at the dorm, rethinking her entire life and regretting it. Irene rolled her eyes, turning back to look at the other girls in the volley courts. 

 

“What are you all looking at? Did I ask you to stop, you nosey-!” Irene glared at them, but it was playful and careless. She strode back towards the courts, brushing by Amber who hurried herself over to Minjung. The rest of the team scrambled about, trying to get back into the rhythm of the game to avoid being scolded as well. Luna hesitated at the far court, watching Amber and Minjung as Amber approached her. She looked as though she was about to come over, but Irene slipped in front of her to talk, blocking her view.

 

Minjung hadn't even noticed how tightly she had been drawn while Irene was there until she let all the tension drop from her body as soon as Irene’s back was turned and had left her lightheaded and floaty. Amber held her arm out, touching lightly at Minjung’s waist to hold her steady while the dizziness resigned. Maybe, she thought, it had been a mistake to even go. All her people-energy was exhausted, she didn’t know how she was going to handle another hour of them. But, that was a lie, because she did know.  

 

“Where’s Krystal?” Amber frowned as Minjung pushed her away. She straightened her back, setting her face into a grim line as she tried to prepare herself for people’s stares. She would use her reserves of sports energy to get through the hour, and then the argument with Gwiboon that would surely follow. 

 

“She didn’t come. She told Vic that Taemin needed to be shown around town so he could take this guy on a date, Jong-something,” Amber explained, walking close to Minjung’s side and glaring at anyone who dared look at her funny.

 

“Jonghyun?” asked Minjung, almost butting in.

 

“Yeah, something like that.” Minjung frowned, thinking back to the way Jonghyun had looked at her. The frown on his face, the apologeticness of his eyes as Minjung had struggled away, even the few memories of the lonesome boy in her classes who never talked to any of them unless it was necessary. He didn’t deserve someone as heartless as Taemin; at least he had shown some compassion.

 

Minjung cut off her own thoughts, knowing what Gwiboon would have to say if she knew what Minjung was thinking. He hadn’t tried to stop anything from happening, even if he had felt bad about it.

 

“She should get away from them,” Minjung said, bluntly, tossing her bottle on the floor beside the court. “The two of them? They’re no good.” Amber raised her eyebrow, quizzically, as they hovered beside the net, waiting for Irene to leave. Victoria came behind them to join them in the coming match.

 

“Her brother?” Minjung bit her lip so as not to laugh aloud. She was sure by then that Taemin was no brother of Krystal’s, but that was hardly something she could say. “Minjung, did something happen at that party last night because-”

 

“No, of course not, Amber!” She laughed, pulling the sleeves of her jacket down over her hands to fiddle with them. No matter how much Minjung despised lying, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Amber, or any of them what had happened. It was embarrassing. They weren’t close enough as friends, nor would they understand as long as Krystal was their friend and Taemin was her brother, “I just- heard some things. From Gwi. You know she’s in on all the gossip around here.” That at least was true. There was not one thing that happened on their campus or beyond, involving students, that Gwiboon didn’t hear about.

 

Before Amber or Victoria could reply, and they had both opened their mouths to do so, ready to be updated on the nonexistent gossip, Irene turned to them with a sharp spin on the heels of her feet . 

 

“Hey!” she called, coming over to them with precise and short steps. Minjung set her lips again, feeling exhaustion sprout, “Who said you could just stand there? Get on with it!” The other two jumped to attention, hurrying across the other side of the net and getting into position. It took Minjung a moment to find the energy to move her feet, but she soon did, standing towards the back of Luna’s side, balling her hands together ready. Irene blew her whistle; Luna served the ball. The thrill of the game rushed into Minjung’s blood.

 

She came alive.

 

\---

 

“Good morning, Minjung. I wasn’t expecting you back so early!” Gwiboon deadpanned as soon as Minjung walked through the door. Minjung tossed her bag and sweat-drenched jacket on the floor at the foot of her bed, falling down onto the sheets and closing her eyes. Her head ached, along with her limbs, overworked and really experiencing the drop in her adrenaline. 

 

“Please don’t start, Gwi. I’ve already had enough of it from Irene…” Minjung sighed, rolling her head onto the side so she could look at Gwiboon. The other woman was sat on her bed, painting her toenails in an assortment of abrasively neon colours that matched her fingernails and the hair chalk she had added into her blonde hair. She looked pretty, ready for another night out, and this time she didn’t look like she would push to have Minjung join her. Gwiboon narrowed her eyes, gaze cutting through the room like ice. It took a moment of harsh stares, but soon Gwiboon dropped her cold exterior to pat the space beside her on the bed.

 

“C’mere,” she commanded, and Minjung obliged, dragging herself across the space between their beds to lie beside Gwiboon. Gwiboon patted Minjung’s hair, wiping the sweat that had collected on her hairline away with one swipe of a painted false nail. “I got a text earlier- from Joy. She told me Krystal and Taemin were hanging around outside her store- you know, by that club down south,” Minjung nodded, for once enjoying the useless details Gwiboon had to share, “She said they were talking about you. That Jonghyun was going to come and talk to you in the library tomorrow when you go to that study group with that guy-”

 

“Jinki?” she prompted.

 

“Jinki. Well, anyway, I  _ told  _ you that Krystal was working with Taemin to feed information about you. It’s exactly like  _ Conspiracy Theory _ ! I’m Mel Gibson.” Minjung frowned in disgust, discomfort making her arm tingle again. Gwiboon nodded in agreement at the way Minjung contorted her face to frown.

 

“And what, I’m Julia Roberts? Have you even seen  _ Conspiracy Theory _ ?” Minjung scoffed then, attempting to lighten the mood, tucking her head in close next to Gwiboon’s hip, nuzzling into her silky pajama shorts. She could tell Gwiboon had grimaced by her tone of voice.

 

“I don't have to have seen it to tell you you're not quite there yet, sweetheart…” Minjung laughed, loudly despite her exhaustion, yawning a little.

 

“Are you going out?” Minjung asked, curling her hand onto Gwiboon’s bare thigh, smoothing her hand over the soft, light skin. She closed her eyes, unable to fight the heaviness of them anymore. 

 

“Just me and Joy. It’s date night.”

 

“I thought Friday was date night,” Minjung hummed.

 

“Any night I go on a date is date night, sweetie.” Gwiboon explained, chuckling adoringly. Minjung stuck her tongue out, letting herself roll towards the end of the bed as Gwiboon pushed her head out of the way, “Now be a good girl and stay in the dorm tonight, yeah? Don’t open the door, I’m staying at Joy’s place tonight.” Minjung agreed with a grunt, feeling the bed dip and bounce up as Gwiboon stood to get changed. She understood that Gwiboon was only trying to keep her safe by saying this but Minjung had no intention of getting up once she went to sleep. “I’ll lock the door…” Minjung nodded, sleepily, hearing the shuffle of Gwiboon changing clothes. She opened one eye to watch the ordeal as Gwiboon tried not to ruin her drying toenails or still setting makeup as she changed. Gwiboon heard the giggles muffled into the sheets and chuckled before she turned to narrow her eyes playfully at the other. 

 

“Quiet, you. If it was you doing this, you’d have gotten polish on your face already!” Gwiboon pouted, playfully moody. Minjung laughed, but didn’t deny it.

 

“All right, now shoo! Joy is waiting, and I’m sure her dildo is too,” Minjung called, closing her eyes again as she rolled onto her back, covering her eyes to the light that came through the lids with one draping, damp arm. Gwiboon gasped in faux shock, tossing her pajama bottoms onto Minjung’s flat chest. 

 

“It’s going to keep waiting too, I don’t need it!” Gwiboon cackled as she walked out the room, letting the door slam softly behind her. Minjung laughed again, yelling a final goodbye through the clink of the lock being turned and the thin wood of the door. If Gwiboon heard she didn’t reply.

 

Minjung waited a few minutes, listening to the bustle from out the window, through the walls, her own laboured breathing. It took everything she had not to fall to sleep right there where she lay. But she didn’t let herself- she couldn’t. She got up when she was sure there was no chance of Gwiboon returning, digging through her belongings that she had flung to the floor earlier. In the pocket of her jacket, zipped away to keep it from falling out and being exposed, were the dream pills. She pulled them out in a hurry, staring at the dreamlike colour of them in awe. Then, she popped two into her mouth, unsure of how many she was supposed to take, washing them down with the few drops of water left over in her bottle. They tasted worse with barely any water to dilute the taste, and Minjung gagged on them. She dropped backwards onto the bed, heaving, taking huge gulps of air to stop from vomiting all over herself. The atrocious taste wouldn’t go away, pained her with every dry swallow. She wanted to cry. She was crying in fact. Surely it hadn’t been that bad before. 

 

And then, all of a sudden, blackness ate at her vision. She stopped tasting, feeling, smelling,  _ being _ altogether. She was falling, but there was nothing left of her to fall. There was a wetness, a lack of air, a crushing, crushing pressure. It took all of a second to realise she was falling in the river back from her previous dream. She screamed, but she had no voice. She hadn't meant to fall back then, she hadn’t wanted to. All around was that suffocating blackness, and Minjung couldn’t tell if that was just what she saw or the fact that she had no eyes. Either way it was terrifying. Maybe she hadn’t taken enough pills. Maybe she was finally truly experiencing the full horror of her dreamless nights. Maybe this was what it was truly like to fall. 

 

There was nothing. Absolutely  _ nothing _ . But Minjung was alive enough, out of that nothing, to experience  _ everything _ .

 

Minjung screamed. And then her body hit the ground, a stream, face smacking against rock and water and something slimy and slithering. She was screaming, and so was someone else.

 

\---

 

When Minjung woke up, she was in a house, a cottage. She could hear a stream somewhere nearby, the rush of wind through an open window, and someone humming. The voice was gentle, loving and something that she had never heard before. Dreamlike. 

 

Her head ached, like always seemed to be the case when she first arrived in a dream. She could remember falling, landing, something vague about a darkness, but otherwise she was clueless as to where she was. She knew, at least, that she wasn’t with Eunsook. Which was a huge shame, but something Minjung should have expected. No one had the same dream twice. 

 

She sat up, looking around the room to try garner some sort of information about where she was. The cottage was beautiful, old but still chic. It looked like something out of a fairytale, thatched roof, white walls, flowers and vines clinging to every edge of the room and climbing in through the window. Outside the sky was such a vibrant blue it hurt her eyes, completely the opposite to the black sky she had seen with Eunsook. The bed she was on was comfortable in the way that it was old and comforting rather than soft or particularly easy to lie on. 

 

Minjung closed her eyes, resting her head back against the decorated headboard. She was still aching, but it was so dull and muted she wondered whether it would be a good idea to get up and look around. 

 

“Oh, you're awake?” Minjung snapped her eyes open, looking towards the door. It was just an open frame that looked like it lead towards a kitchen or maybe a really fancy bathroom. Someone was stood in it, curling hair, gentle features and tray full of cookies in their hands. “Good afternoon!” They grinned, balancing the tray in one hand and waving at Minjung with enough energy that it made Minjung tired to watch. 

 

“Where am I?” She asked, carefully, kicking the duvet off of her legs as the person approached. They had such a sickening air of familiarity about that Minjung felt the pressure of vomit building in the back of her throat and she had no idea why. “Who… Who are you?” They came closer, resting the tray on the cabinet beside the bed and perching next to Minjung’s feet. They smiled, resting one careful, calloused hand against Minjung's leg. She realised she was still dressed in her volley uniform, the way she had been wearing it when she had taken the pills. Her feel felt uncomfortably warm in the sweaty socks, and the stranger’s hand was also unusually warm. 

 

“I should be asking you that…” they hummed, amused. A little smirk played on their lips, and Minjung couldn't help but be reminded of bubblegum. The entirety of this stranger was like strawberry bubblegum. “Since you're in  _ my _ house and everything.”

 

“... Minjung Choi,” She introduced herself hesitantly, though she knew nothing bad could come of it. She was dreaming. There was no need to hold anything back, as no harm could come to her from it. But still, there was something so distinctly familiar about them that Minjung couldn't help erring on the side of caution. The pink stranger grinned, and they looked so incredibly adorable Minjung had to grin too. 

 

“I'm Junghee.” At the sound of their name, Minjung gagged, her stomach twisting in warning. She just couldn't work out why her body rejected Junghee like it did. Junghee cringed back, looking quickly away in case Minjung was sick.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” She apologised quickly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, “The fall-”

 

“Yeah, it was nasty…” Junghee agreed, cutting her off, smiling awkwardly back at Minjung, “I don't even know where you came from. It was like you just appeared above the brook and fell,” They chuckled, rubbing the back of their head with one hand. 

 

“Yeah, I apparated!” Minjung joked mildly, sitting up properly to flash Junghee a small smile. They looked back at Minjung blankly and it took her a moment to realise they didn't understand. “Oh right. You don't have _ Harry Potter _ here, do you?” Junghee just stared, obviously completely lost. Minjung just shook her head, telling Junghee to forget about it,

 

“Is  _ Harry Potter _ some sort of City slang?” they asked, reaching out thoughtlessly for a cookie. Their arm was a little too short to reach, so Minjung took one and handed it to them. They grinned, but Minjung wasn't sure what there could possibly be to smile about when she saw the cookie. The bottom was black with char, and the top wasn't much lighter. The tray smelled less like a tray of homemade cookies and more like a tray covered in the remnants of a house fire. Junghee clearly did not mind this though, as they took a huge bite of the cookie. It snapped into their mouth with a sickening crunch; Minjung nearly gagged again.

 

“City slang?” She asked, shaking her head politely when Junghee urged her to take a cookie. 

 

“Like, slang they use in the City?” Junghee helpfully elaborated. Minjung rolled her eyes, still not understanding, “Are you not from the City?” They asked, raising their eyebrows, looking suddenly interested.

 

“Ah, no. I'm from… I'm from really far away from here,” she explained, nervously, tangling her fingers up in the pillow cover at her hip. Junghee seemed quizzically disbelieving, but they rose to their feet anyway. Their delicately white dress swept around their knees, floating around their frame in a way that made their movements look effortless and easy in a careful, purposeful way. 

 

“Can you walk?” they asked, holding out their hand. Minjung nodded, too proud and cautious to take the help and getting up on her own. Her knees screamed with the weight, and her feet were so sore it was like she had gone out running for hours. All her joints burned. She took a step towards Junghee, encouraging them to take her wherever they had planned, but she stumbled, falling into Junghee’s ready grip. Their chest was so broad, and their grip surprisingly strong. “Here, let me help you…” They made it sound like a question, but they already had their arms around her waist, guiding her towards the door with slow steps. 

 

Their side brushed against Minjung with every step, and every touch brought a new wave of nausea and warmth crashing through her each time. By the time they made it out the door- into what Minjung saw them was a kitchen- Minjung's mind was stormy with regret and confusion. She pushed away from Junghee to lean against a counter. Junghee waited up beside her, clearly a little uncomfortable as well, and they really didn't hide it well. 

 

“What are you going to show me?” she asked, shaking out her legs to try and relieve some of the tension that made it difficult to walk. Junghee looked at the floor, suddenly shy. Minjung smiled warmly at them, amused.

 

“From the end of the hill, out there, you can see it.” Junghee pointed out of the kitchen doorframe, as again, there was no door, into what appeared to be a living room. She wasn't quite sure what ‘it’ was supposed to be, but she was curious enough to want to find out. She started towards the door again without assistance, though she felt Junghee hovering close behind her in case she fell once more.

 

The living room was cozy, and more modernly fairytale-esque. Pink roses and vines climbed up most of the white walls and the entire room smelt so strongly of honey Minjung nearly choked on the sweetness. There were no chairs save for what seemed to be an ancient, rotting rocking chair in the corner of the room. The biggest feature, however, was a huge fireplace on one wall. There was no fire going, but the burnt thatch on the stone floor of it, black with ash, told Minjung there must have been one recently. Junghee noticed the direction of Minjung’s attention and smiled gently, blush still thoroughly coating their cheeks. They nodded as Minjung made her way slowly towards it, examining the varnished wooden mantle piece. It was well cared for, as the entire cottage seemed to be, cleaned regularly, and the flowers that filled jars on each end of the mantle seemed to be as alive as if they were living in the dirt outside. Between the jarred stoppers at each end of it, there was an assortment of pictures and piles of opened letters. The handwriting on the letters was pretty unintelligible, but Minjung could make out Junghee’s name- Junghee Kim- and a return address marked in the City. Minjung moved on to looking at the photos. They were framed most carefully, and by the far the cleanest things on the mantle, so clean that they were  _ noticeably _ clean. However, Minjung could see where Junghee obviously usually handled the frames. She looked at the photographs themselves last, feeling as though maybe she was breaking some sort of rule of privacy to look at them, but Junghee made no moves to stop her as she picked up the largest frame to examine it. And of course, Minjung thought, they wouldn’t. They were, after all, just the product of Minjung’s imagination, brought about by those damned pills. 

 

In the picture, there was Junghee. Her hair was longer, wilder and darker. Behind her was a familiar landscape. The view from atop a roof, black sky and swirling charcoal clouds, the tops of buildings ascending even higher than they were, up into the dark nothingness of the sky. She couldn’t tell whether it was day or night as there was no sun or moon or stars. At Junghee’s side, one arm wrapped around Junghee’s shoulders, their heads resting together in a way that even through the picture seemed much more intimate than just friendly touch, was Eunsook. Minjung nearly dropped the picture when she saw, and Junghee started forward sharply to catch it. But Minjung recovered before her grip loosened enough to cause an accident, and she quickly replaced the picture on the shelf, breathing deeply to slow the pace of her heart. 

 

Minjung tried to tell herself that it was perfectly logical that Eunsook was in her dream again, that her brain was just taking her dream from the night before and placing it in her dream now, that it made perfect sense. That it was a silly and unnerving detail that her mind had conjured up for her. Even as she told herself this, she knew that it wasn’t true. It was something in those pills. 

 

“Please show me the City,” she said, barely giving herself time to think through the words before they were spilling almost desperately from her lips. Junghee stared at Minjung for a second before they nodded slowly, pointing to the door, cracked open and made of what seemed to be a whole piece of a tree, bumped bark and all. Minjung was running out of it faster than she could even command her body to do it, stumbling out onto a cobblestone path that lead out into a forest to the right of the cottage. All around Minjung was the intense scent of flowers and life and greenery, bees buzzing between every plant in their paradise either side of the path. 

 

Junghee scrambled out after her, colliding with Minjung’s back in their haste to follow. Minjung started forward, almost tumbling to the ground and pulling Junghee along with her. The two wobbled around drunkenly for much too long as they tried to right themselves, ending up with Junghee clinging to Minjung’s top, scrunching the material up in their strong grip. Minjung rested her hands on Junghee’s shoulders, looking down at them with wide eyes. Now, tangled up together like this, Junghee’s proximity seemed to do nothing to her; there was no struggle not to vomit, or dizzy hotness that made her stomach turn. Minjung frowned, stepping herself away. Junghee let go immediately. 

 

“The City,” Junghee cleared their throat, smiling weakly, “It’s over the other side of the hill. You’ll be able to see it, it’s hard to miss…” She whispered, shyly, gesturing with a jerk of her head to the long patch of grass just past their garden. Minjung nodded in thanks, but was no longer in such a rush. There had been a moment inside, with the shock of seeing Junghee, and then Eunsook together with them, on what Minjung was certain was the the same rooftop she and Eunsook had been together on the night before, that Minjung had wondered whether those pills had warped her into an alternate universe or something. Everything felt so unbelievably real. But, falling into Junghee and feeling how fickle her body’s responses were in this dream world, it showed Minjung that there really was nothing there. It was just a dream. A dream that was strangely linked with the one she had had the previous night, but a dream all the same. 

 

She made her way casually across the grassy plateau, admiring the view around her right then rather than rushing to what she assumed would be the city she had dreamt up the night before. All around was such beautiful greenery; flowers with petals in shades beyond Minjung’s wildest imaginations and trees such vibrant colours Minjung had to subconsciously wonder if they were faked, manufactured to be as perfect as they could be. In her dreams, though, she figured the colours could be as saturated as she could imagine. It was almost impossible to believe the gloomy, grey city from before was on the same planet as this wonderland, let alone within sight’s reach. 

 

It was even less believable when Minjung reached the slope of the hill and could see the entire view of down below. Within a circle of green, green hills that matched exactly with the one Minjung was stood on then, covered with forests and little puffing cottages, was the City. It was impossible to see beneath the black cloud that surrounded the top of it, it was like looking down at a storm from an aeroplane. The cloud wasn’t black either, it was something more than black, and Minjung felt her stomach lurch with dread when she realised it looked just the same colour as the nothingness that had swallowed her for twenty-two years of dreams before Taemin had found her. 

 

“Are you okay?” Minjung jumped when she felt Junghee touch her shoulder, flinching away from their touch. As if she had not been frightened, Minjung looked back at the other, smiling shakily. Junghee frowned in disbelief, but they didn’t say anything of it, instead staring down at the City far below them.

 

“What is that?” she asked, once a silence had hung for too long in the air. Junghee laughed softly, bitterly. 

 

“What does it look like?” they snapped, and though it was definitely a snap, it was a pretty weak, timid one. Like when bubblegum popped, short and sharp, but ultimately not very scary.

 

“Smoke?” she replied, unsurely. It certainly didn’t look like smoke once you got past the general cloudiness of it. Junghee scoffed, dropping the grass at the turning point of the slope, into the centre of a ring of daisies. They began to pick them, looping the tiny things into a bracelet with ease that only came with practice.

 

“Pollution.” they said, shortly. “Tons and tons of pollution. You must really be from somewhere far away…” Junghee mused, humourlessly. They patted the space beside them, outside of the daisy ring, and without much thought Minjung dropped down beside them, resting back on her hands.

 

“Why do people live in that place?” she asked, disgusted. She tried not to imagine how much grime she would have inhaled the night before, and then she remembered it was a dream, so she hadn’t inhaled anything. The thought both unsettled and comforted her, making her stomach churn in the most awful way. “Isn’t it toxic? Won’t it just kill them?” Junghee sighed, frowning down at their daisy chain and all the daisies seemed to droop and frown with her. 

 

“Yeah, that’s the point.” Minjung frowned too, falling back to stare at the blue, blue sky. There was not a single cloud in sight, and she wondered if they’d all been harvested to cloak the City, “Everyone in there, they’re either so poor they’re a ‘drain on society’, or they’re criminals.” Junghee explained. Their daisies drooped every more, flapping with a nearly invisible gust of wind towards the City. It looked like they were calling for someone. It looked like Junghee was too.

 

“Everyone?” she asked, thinking of Eunsook. There was nothing about Eunsook that seemed particularly villainous. They were kind, gentle; they had ‘saved’ Minjung despite the rest of their biker crew being against it. They were probably in trouble with the gang right then, and Minjung had no way of defending them for the good they had done her. 

 

“Yeah. Everyone.” Junghee tossed the screaming daisies down the hill, and two of them watched them roll until they got caught on a half-naked dandelion and the chain broke apart. Minjung looked at Junghee; Junghee stared down at the City, tearful. “That doesn’t mean all the people down there are bad, or all the bad people are down there. But, they’re all poor, or criminals, or both.” 

 

Junghee fell back into the grass and stared at the sky like Minjung had. Their eyes weren’t wandering or curious, they were certain and searching. Minjung drew her eyes away, feeling like she was watching something too personal and intimate for the stranger she was to Junghee. 

 

“I never asked…” Minjung began, and Junghee turned their wide, searching eyes onto her, “I always ask people… What are your pronouns?” Junghee snorted, wiping their eyes and sitting up, although there were no tears there to remove. They turned to Minjung, crossing their legs and grinning widely. 

 

“No one’s ever asked me that before,” they mused, giggling. All the thoughtful, mellow sadness disappeared, and Minjung was left watching their beautiful, grinning face, and Junghee was staring right back, eyes as bright and glittering as their voice. Minjung thought it was like spitting out old gum, and putting in a new stick, as if the flavourless one didn’t exist. She started to grin too. “What are your favourites?” Junghee asked, playful.

 

“My favourite pronouns?” Minjung laughed, shaking her head. “I’ve never thought about it… I guess she/her because they’re mine.” she hummed, tilting her head. Junghee giggled and nodded, resting their hand against Minjung’s knee.

 

“Then my pronouns are she/her. Nice to finally really meet you, Minjung!” Minjung couldn’t help the way she fell back with laughter, rolling back in the grass to laugh up at Junghee.

 

“You can’t be serious,” she chortled, “I can't pick your pronouns for you!” she argued, smiling up hugely at Junghee. She grinned back down, lopsidedly, brushing her hand through Minjung’s hair. Minjung didn’t stop smiling, but she looked up curiously. She hadn’t expected Junghee to look at her so… lovingly, let alone touch her like that. Junghee seemed to catch herself, quickly removing her hand and clearing her throat. 

 

“You had grass…” she explained hesitantly, before continuing with a bright smile, “And I’m not letting you choose them, I chose them. I just happen to also like she/her!” Junghee curled her hand  in the grass, scrunching daisies into her careful fist. Minjung laughed on last time, rolling over to face Junghee, resting her head on her hand.

 

“... Will you make me a daisy chain?” she asked, gently, holding out her hand for Junghee to measure the size of her wrist. Junghee raised her eyebrow, teasingly debating it on her face. Finally, she began picking at some of the daisies. While she looped them together, Minjung picked the ones with her reach and handed them to Junghee. She took them gratefully.

 

“What do I get for it?” She asked, smirking, all of a sudden. Minjung looked up at her thoughtfully, at the way her plump, pink lips curled with the smirk; the way her eyes lit up with spirited excitement. Minjung felt ridiculously embarrassed for having to remind herself that it was only a dream. And in that same sense, it didn’t really matter what she did.

 

“What do you want for it?” Junghee, maybe unsurprisingly, caught Minjung’s drift instantly, and grinned ferociously. The two both watched as Junghee finished the daisy chain, Minjung with intensity, impatience, and Junghee with nervous, fluttering excitement. Her hands were shaking by the time she got to the final daisy, holding out the unattached ends to tie around Minjung’s wrist. Minjung rested her hand against the bottom of the chain, letting Junghee slip the stems together in a neat knot. When it was done, she held Junghee’s shaking hand in her own and smiled at her. “What do you want for it?” she repeated, and the two looked at each other for a moment, and then a moment more. Junghee looked so conflicted, and Minjung could feel something not right about what was inevitably going to happen. And it was going to happen. It was her dream. If it wasn’t that she already knew what was going to happen before it did, then she could decide.

 

Junghee leaned forward, placing one hand on Minjung’s shoulder, her other propping her up in the grass. And she kissed her. Minjung felt her stomach roil in disgust and despair as their lips connected, but it was so heartbreakingly sweet that Minjung could not bear to draw herself away. It felt so real to kiss Junghee, so undreamt, so impossible to make up. And yet she knew, she  _ knew _ it was imagined.

 

Minjung was shy, hesitant, as she put her hands on Junghee’s waist, leaning forward awkwardly to be far enough across to kiss her. She opened one eye to look at Junghee, expecting her to look blank or robotic, or even like Irene. As Minjung had only ever properly kissed Irene, she assumed her brain would only be able to picture kissing her. But, even as she thought it, Minjung knew this was nothing like kissing Irene. When she looked, Junghee looked so real. Her personality shone through her expression, eyebrows drawn together in desperation, uncertainty; eyes scrunched tightly as if she felt the same disgust that Minjung did. Surprised, Minjung pulled away and then, after the moment it took her to realise what was happening, so did Junghee, tightening her hand and panting softly. Minjung didn’t know how long they had been kissing for, but for some reason, though she had so disliked kissing Junghee while it was happening, she was certain it was not long enough. Junghee was back to looking nervous, though her hand no longer shook with the feeling; her eyes just wobbled with tearful anxiety and regret. 

 

“I should go back inside…” she whispered, scrambling up, stamping on the daisies in her haste. They crumpled under her shoe like paper, and then sprung up as she walked away. “Are you going home?” She hovered beside Minjung, just behind her, her eyes still locked on the City below. 

 

“How did you know Eunsook?” Minjung asked, suddenly careless. She was going home soon, she could feel her sleep beginning to slip away from her and she wasn't going to leave without an answer. Minjung knew it really didn't matter what Junghee said, it wasn't real, but she felt compelled to know. 

 

“I don't know any Eunsook’s,” Junghee said sharply, clenching her hand into a fist and storming off. Minjung jumped to her feet, stumbling to try and follow Junghee back into the cottage, but her body had different ideas. Minjung tried to call for Junghee to come back, to help her, but her mouth wouldn't open. She was walked back along the path but turned before she got to Junghee’s home, following the path down into the forest. The green was overwhelming, everywhere she looked, dark and rich and burning her eyes. She ended up at the brook she had fallen into, just standing on the water's edge. Through the trees she could just barely see Junghee’s cottage, distant and glowing white in the bright sun. She took one last look, before her vision swam with black and she felt a sharp crack of pain. Her head bounced off the rocks as she fainted into the brook. The water wasn't deep enough for her to drown, but she could feel the water lapping at her face, climbing up herself nose, freezing her lips. She tried to open her eyes, to sit up, do anything but lie there. She couldn't move.

 

\---

 

Minjung woke up with the sun shining in through the window, illuminating the entire room in a yellowish glow. The curtains were still drawn and Minjung was lay in a tangled mess on the bed. She was drenched in sweat, her volley uniform clinging awkwardly to her body and the sheets were trapped around her legs, damp. For an awful, awful moment she feared she had wet herself, but as she forced herself upright, she saw it was only sweat. Nausea hit her like a wave, the feeling so sickly familiar she barely even noticed it until she got to her feet and the vomit came up into her mouth. She hurriedly swallowed it back down, knowing that if she threw up in their room, Gwiboon would kill her. Minjung leaned over her bed, trying to swallow enough air to hold back the sickness. It took a moment, a long, long moment, to regain control but when she did she stood up straight and stretched. 

 

She needed to shower.

 

Minjung frowned, cracking open the curtains. It seemed way too bright for the morning, but she didn’t complain. The sun had always been a key component of Minjung’s happier days, and her favourite weather. She went through her closet, searching for something comfortable to wear that she could substitute for her volley uniform while she got the sweaty one washed. She saw her phone on the floor where she had dropped all of her stuff when she’d got in the night before and went to plug it in to charge, sure it would be out of power by then. When she plugged it in though, the screen flashed up with missed calls and texts. 

 

It was five in the afternoon. Not only had she missed all her classes, but she’d missed volleyball and she was going to be late for meeting Jinki. She felt herself begin to panic, the vomit forming in her stomach again for a new reason. Irene was going to kill her, missing classes were the least of her problems. 

 

All the missed calls were from Irene bar three from Amber, one from Joy’s phone which Minjung assumed was Gwiboon, and one from sweet Jinki. She called him back as she dug through her closet for just  _ something _ to wear. She knew Jinki would wait for her until the library closed so it was best to just let him know she was late. He picked up on the fourth ring, as Minjung was trying to tug some skinny jeans up her sticky legs. 

 

“Good afternoon, Minjung!” he said brightly into the phone. She heard someone from close by shush him and then a chair scraped as Jinki went somewhere a little louder.

 

“Jinki! I’m so sorry I’m late, I only just woke up…” Minjung apologised, tossing her phone on the bed for a moment as she pulled on a top and some shoes. When she picked the phone up again, she only caught the tail end of what Jinki had to say, but it sounded like the end of an unnecessary story so she just made a noise of agreement.

 

“Are you going to be coming then?” he asked, and she could tell he was smiling. Jinki was always smiling, even when what he was talking about didn’t really seem like the type of thing he should be smiling about. “If you haven’t decided yet, I’ll be here for another hour anyway…” 

 

“No, no!” Minjung interrupted, rushing out her words like an apology again, “I’m coming right now, I’m so sorry for being so annoying.” Jinki just laughed, a soft and deep noise that made Minjung pause in its familiarity. Minjung had known Jinki for about a year, but that laugh, it sounded so distinctly like something else. Like someone else. 

 

“I don’t think you’re annoying, Minjung. I think you of all people deserve some rest.” Minjung frowned, a little confused, but nodded, thanking Jinki and then rushing to hang up. She had apologise to Irene, and if Minjung did it before she got the library she would at least have some time to prepare herself for the eventuality that she was going to be booted from the volley team and never be able to play sports again.

 

But Irene hadn't picked up before Minjung got the library, so she decided to head over to her dorm when she was done with Jinki. He was waiting by the door for her, inside, talking amicably with the sophomore who worked at the front desk. He made it look casual, just standing there as if he wasn't waiting for anyone. When he noticed Minjung approaching, he gave the sophomore a huge grin, slipping away from them and coming over to Minjung. She gave him the biggest smile she could, though it wasn't very big considering everything. She was sweaty and uncomfortable, and the nausea had barely subsided. Jinki seemed to notice that something was wrong, as his smile softened. 

 

“Are you all right?” He asked sweetly, clasping some books against his chest in front of him a little awkwardly. Minjung crossed her arms with a short nod, gesturing for Jinki to follow her with  a nudge of her shoulder. She and Jinki had been tutoring each other for the past year. Minjung would help Jinki with his songwriting and Jinki would in turn reach Minjung some sports science. It wasn't his major, but Jinki was pretty smart and he really knew what he was talking about. The tutoring didn't really help either of them in their majors, Jinki least of all as it wasn't even really revision for him, but neither of them really minded. They had begun to enjoy each other's company for an hour or three a week. 

 

They found a pretty secluded area where there were group study sessions going on and they sat down opposite each other. Jinki set his books down between the two of them, and Minjung clasped her hands together just beside them. She hadn't thought to bring a notebook or anything in her rush, she couldn't even remember what she had been planning to tell Jinki, but she was confident in her ability to wing it. 

 

Jinki opened one of the books, pushing it towards Minjung. It was text heavy, with one colourless diagram of the heart. She almost laughed, it was exactly the type of book Jinki enjoyed. Straightforward. Minjung looked over the page, scanning it to garner what he was going to teach her about. It seemed to be about how to be more energy efficient with high impact sports, something she was sure Jinki knew she needed to know. He pulled out a pencil and pointed it down at the page above the diagram, looking up at Minjung from beneath his long fringe. He was talking, recapping her on the functions of the heart and the each of its vessels. It was basic stuff that Minjung could afford not to listen to, which was good because Minjung was so distracted. 

 

The way Jinki pouted out his lips as he spoke, his eyes flitting from Minjung to the book and back again. He never stared, but he looked with such unwavering eyes that it didn't matter how long he looked for, it was clear who he was talking to. Minjung had never noticed any of this before, she'd never really noticed Jinki at all before. But she couldn't stop looking anymore. 

 

“Do you remember what your heart rate is, or should we take it again?” he asked, delicately, clearly having noticed Minjung’s stare. She didn't reply for a moment. She did, in fact, remember her heart rate from when they’d measured it a few weeks before, but she felt compelled to ask him to take it again. She was about to blame it on the dream pills, or her subconscious, when she realised she wasn't actually dreaming. Minjung straightened, frowning.

 

“I remember,” she mumbled, a little heatedly, argumentative. Jinki didn’t say anything in return, or even let the smile slip from his face, though Minjung would have admitted that she had been rude if Jinki had said anything. He just nodded, chewing on the end of his pencil thoughtfully. Minjung rested her fingers on the inside of her wrist, trying to find her pulse. She stopped paying attention until she saw Jinki’s hand reach out and grab hers. She looked up, and his smiling face was right there in front of hers. He moved her hand up to her neck and she immediately found her pulse.

 

“I don’t think you’re really in the mood to learn today, are you, Minjung?” he asked, calmly, his hand moving away from her, though he lingered close, closing the book and piling it on top of the others. Minjung shifted back in her seat, not wanting to so openly agree, though she did. She wasn't in the mood for anything. She felt awful; she wanted to be back her dream world. She wanted to kiss Junghee again and see if she still liked it, she wanted to give Eunsook a helmet and drive around the City with her. She wanted to know the deal between the other two- Eunsook and Junghee. There, in that library with Jinki, everything was suddenly too loud and too intense. Too out of her control. 

 

Jinki smiled softly, as if it didn't matter to him what Minjung did. He sat back too, opening a completely different book up. Minjung recognised it as the book she normally taught him with. He had clearly anticipated this turn of events, and Minjung struggled to see why he would even invite her to study if he had known she wouldn't be ready to.

 

“I'm going to go. I need to talk to some people.” she mumbled finally, after a silence had gone on for too long. Jinki looked up at her, parting his lips as though to speak. Minjung didn't wait around for him to start, she stalked right past him, apologising once again as she did. She figured she was in the clear when she didn't the scrape off his chair to follow her, but clearly he hadn't made a noise, as Jinki came up behind her moments later and grabbed her arm. 

 

“Don't take them again,” he said, not sharply nor softly. He looked at her with the most desperate eyes, though the rest of his face was set neutral. “The pills. They don't help.” Minjung fought back a gasp. She didn't know how Jinki could possibly know about them, so she tore herself from his grip and decided to feign ignorance. 

 

“You mean my oestrogen?” She snapped, “Jinki, I thought you were better than that.” She knew very well that that wasn't what Jinki had meant, in all the time Minjung had known Jinki, he had never made a fuss about her gender, even at the very beginning of her transition. But Jinki seemed thrown enough by the assumption of it that he just stood there, blinking widely. 

 

“No, no! I didn't mean them, I meant-” Minjung scoffed, cutting him off. He stared at her still, shocked that she wouldn't even listen to him. Usually Minjung would take pity on him, but she wasn't in a particularly sympathetic mood and Jinki wasn't really appealing to her sensible side with all his stuttering.

 

“Goodbye, Jinki,” she said shortly, turning back from him and starting out of the library door. Jinki don't follow her out of the door, luckily, though a part of Minjung wished he had. She stomped her feet down the stone steps, revelling in the way the sound echoed in the quiet quad. She began on her way to Irene’s dorm, bracing herself to never hear the end of Irene’s complaints. It was yet another moment where she truly wished she could just fall back into her dream world and stay there. 

 

As she turned the corner beside the library, all thoughts of her dream world flooded back and were swept away simultaneously, giving Minjung an awful sense of internal sea sickness.

 

She walked right into Jonghyun. 

 

His hair was swept back by his hand it seemed, kept back by grease more than gel. He looked tired, sleepless, and more than shocked to have run into her. Minjung felt her throat close up. She couldn't breathe, or think straight. Before then, she hadn't thought she had been so affected by what had happened at the party, but as she gazed up into Jonghyun's dark, sorry eyes, she realised she was truly terrified of him. And of Taemin. Especially of Taemin. 

 

Her hands shook and Jonghyun stared at them.

 

“I wasn't…” Jonghyun paused, face fretful. He was so expressive, it took no effort to read him at all. It was almost like he couldn't talk without Taemin around. “I was coming to your dorm. I wanted to give you this-” Minjung slapped the papers he held out to her from his hands, letting the notepad drop to the ground and slide across the gravel. Jonghyun looked down at the pad for a moment too long before he slowly reached down to retrieve it, looking entirely undignified.

 

“I don't want it! I don't want whatever it is you're trying to give me,” she breathed, stepping back from Jonghyun and whatever was on the paper. Honestly, she wasn't sure what possible harm a piece of paper could do, but she had trusted Jonghyun once and she wasn't foolish enough to do it again.

 

“No, it's just- It's just the notes from today's class. You didn't come in so I thought it would be nice for you to  have them,” he whispered, head facing the ground so totally Minjung could see the back of his head. “I’m sorry. I didn't even write them, Jinki took them.” 

 

“Jinki?” she asked, forgetting for a moment that she didn't want to talk to either of them.

 

“Yeah. He went in looking for you but you weren't there. He stayed anyway and took notes for us both.” Jonghyun offered the notepad again and Minjung took it cautiously, holding it away from her with the tips of her fingers. The handwriting definitely looked like Jinki’s, and though Minjung had never seen Jonghyun's handwriting, she was content that Jinki's was distinct enough in her mind that she would know if this was an imitation. She flipped the notebook shut and saw that it was definitely Jinki's. It was the same one he let her use if she forgot to bring paper to tutoring. Slowly, she brought the pad closer to her. She had no bag, so she held it by the ringlets, still leant back from Jonghyun. He sighed, starting to step around her.

 

“Taemin really means the best for all of us, you know?” He said, chewing on his lip anxiously, as though there was anything for him to be anxious about other than stepping too close to Minjung and having her punch him in the face. “He just doesn't know how to say it. The pills really have helped most of us. They'll help you too.” Minjung glared at him.

 

“Don't presume anything about me,” she muttered, backing away from him down the path. She daren't turn her back on him should he make a grab at her. She wanted to be prepared, though the lingering fear that Taemin would jump out behind her was very present. Jonghyun sighed, beginning to walk away from her down the path he had been headed. Minjung couldn't help but hope Gwiboon was home so that if Jonghyun did try to get into their dorm, she would kill him or something. 

 

Minjung didn't stop walking backwards, even when Jonghyun was out of sight. She tried, multiple times, as she backed up the path, but every time she looked behind her to check she was going the right way, she felt an overwhelming wave of anxiety take away all of her air. At first it was that Jonghyun was following her, and then it was that Jonghyun had told Taemin where she was and that he was coming to take the pills away from her ungrateful ass. She just wanted to go back to her dorm but now she knew Jonghyun knew where it was, she needed Gwiboon to come and get her. But of course, her phone had run out of battery. Minjung was pretty sure the entire world was out to get her right then.

 

“Minju-” 

 

Minjung screamed before she could stop herself. She flung around to face whoever she had bumped into, and by some impossible odds, she'd walked right into Irene. Irene stared back at her, frowning so deeply Minjung could tell she was worried. She rested her hand on Minjung's shoulder, holding her other, soft hand over Minjung's mouth until she stopped screaming. It was fairly quickly considering how tense she had been, but any screaming it all was a sure sign that something was off, and Irene had never been one to shy away from uncomfortable things.

 

“Minjung, what happened?” It was funny, in a way. Minjung had so been expecting Irene to be angry as soon as she'd seen her, and Minjung would have to hold back her tears just like she had for the entire year they had been dating. But Irene threw her arms around Minjung’s shivering body and held her close until Minjung felt tears begin escape her eyes. She was so unused to the feeling, she felt herself stop shaking in surprise.

 

“Did- did Gwiboon tell you about the party?” she asked, voice unchanged by her crying, despite the way the tears were already coming down so quickly. Irene shook her head, running her hands along Minjung’s back. Her fingers fit perfectly into the groove of Minjung’s spine. 

 

“What happened?” Irene repeated, calmly, patting Minjung’s back in the most comforting possible way. For a moment Minjung couldn’t remember why is was that they broke up in the first place. There, in Irene’s arms, she felt exactly where she needed to be. Exactly where she was meant to be. “Minjung.” Irene suddenly sounded a little sterner, but Minjung didn’t complain. Clinging back tighter to her, Minjung took a deep breath. Her memory of what had actually happened was a getting a little hazy, all she was sure about was the warmth in Jonghyun’s eyes, and the excitement in Taemin’s. 

 

“Some boys- they drugged me and-” 

 

“Oh my God! Minjung, is that why you’ve been so weird recently?” Irene interrupted, ripping herself from Minjung’s arms and holding Minjung back to look into her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Minjung probably would have been annoyed at the interruption, or at least a little upset at being torn away, but the worry in Irene’s eyes was so genuine that all Minjung could feel was more tearful. “They didn’t- God, they didn’t-”

 

“They didn’t,” Minjung affirmed, pressing her lips together nervously, “They actually gave me pills that let me dream…” Irene’s face fell, if it was even possible, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

 

“Minjung, I thought you said you can’t dream. You went to doctors, how could some college frat boys-” Minjung nearly told her that neither Taemin nor Jonghyun looked like they were the typical frat boy type, but she just pursed her lips, “-give you the ability to dream?”

 

Irene had always been the sort of person to call Minjung a liar when it came to the point of her being unable to dream. Most of the time, Minjung didn’t blame her. In their relationship, there had been more than a few occasions where Minjung had lied to try and make herself seem cooler or better for Irene, but she had always owned up to them within a few months. But the dreaming- the lack of it- that was all too real.

 

“I know, Ire, I wouldn’t believe it either but I swear that I dreamt because of those pills.” Irene rolled her eyes, but she looked apologetic. 

 

“Minjung, look, I’m so sorry that happened to you. But, if you dreamed last night, the pills obviously weren’t the cause of it, since you didn’t take them.” Minjung bit her lips. How could she explain that she had gone back for the pills? Especially since that was why she had been late for volleyball practice the day before? As if Irene wasn’t pissed off with her enough. “You’re clearly still a little shocked because of them- did you see one of them just now?” Minjung nodded, looking at the floor. Irene sighed, petting her hand down through Minjung’s hair. 

 

“I’m not just traumatised or anything, Ire,” Minjung mumbled, chewing on her lip. Irene smiled like she was sorry, like she didn’t believe Minjung, which made Minjung frown. There was no way she could make Irene believe her, and it was so aggravating to be babied like that. Though, it wasn’t as though Irene didn’t have a point. There was no evidence that Minjung needed the pills to be able to dream. It was a solid hypothesis, as every night she had taken those pills she had dreamed and no more, but maybe the pills didn’t need to be taken nightly to ensure dreams. “Look, can you just take me back to the dorm? I think Gwi is waiting for me... “ Minjung whispered, knowing it was likely not true. When Gwiboon stayed at Joy’s, or any of her girlfriends’ places, she really  _ stayed _ . Minjung just wanted to take any opportunity to get home again. Irene nodded, sliding her hand down Minjung’s arm to take her hand. For the first time since they had broken up, Minjung didn’t feel the sparks at Irene’s touch. 

 

\---

 

Gwiboon wasn’t happy. 

 

When Irene brought Minjung back to her dorm, the door was already open, as was the window. The mess Minjung had left in her hurry to meet Jinki was all cleared away and Gwiboon was sat on her bed, painting her toenails again. Minjung thought it was a bit of waste of polish to clean it off so quickly, but Gwiboon was the sort person who didn’t care about those things. 

 

Gwiboon was smiling, acting just like herself, but Minjung could tell in an instant that she wasn’t happy. Her smile reached her eyes perfectly, she showed just enough of her whitened teeth. She looked too realistically happy, and Gwiboon was just never like that. She was acting. 

 

“What?” Minjung asked as soon as the door shut behind Irene.

 

“You kept them?” Gwiboon asked, still painting her nails with perfect precision. Her hands weren’t shaking like Minjung’s were. She didn’t look up, but she didn’t have to. Gwiboon had long perfected the art of exuding her disappointment rather than expressing it. 

 

“What?” Minjung repeated, otherwise dumbstruck. There were no words that could cool Gwiboon’s wrath when it was directed at her. There never had been. 

 

“Oh, Minjung, you know  _ what _ ,” Gwiboon snapped, brushing a stripe of pear green over a patch of already green nail, “Those pills, the ones they drugged you with. How could you? Are you that fucking desperate? Is this some sort of messed-up power play on your part; show them that they’re not the boss of you?” She exploded, tossing the wet applicator onto Minjung’s barely dried sheets. Minjung just stared as she sat up and stretched across the gap between their beds to retrieve the brush. 

 

“I just wanted to dream…” she mumbled, as though it should just be that simple of an answer. Truly, she wasn’t sure what had compelled her to skip practice and run across town back to that  _ house _ , to search through the grass and have the homeowners and neighbours all stare at her like she was just as drugged up as she had been that night. It was like the pills had called for her. 

 

No. It was like Minjung had wanted to be normal. To have the rest of her nights not be dreaded. Taemin had really preyed on the right person. Minjung was weak. 

 

“If this kid could cook up some magic formula to make you dream, Minjunggie, then real, actual scientists would be able to do it. People would tell you. You would have real meds,” Gwiboon argued. If Minjung hadn't known her for so long, she would have taken the aggression in Gwiboon’s tone more seriously. But she knew it really meant Gwiboon was passionate. That she cared. 

 

“Random people discover things all the time.” Gwiboon rolled her eyes, staring up at the ceiling like she was asking God for forgiveness. Then, it was Minjung's turn to roll her eyes, “Gwi, I promise you that they're safe.” Minjung was reluctant to mention how sick the pills had made her, knowing that even the slightest suggestion that they were unhealthy would make Gwiboon burn them or something dramatic like that. If anything, Gwiboon liked to be dramatic. 

 

“Just… Don't take them tonight, okay?” Gwiboon sked, not begging because that wasn't good for her image, but she sounded like there was a little bit of desperation in her. She rolled her head to look at Minjung, and her sharp eyes drooped with worry. Minjung nodded slowly, deciding not to mention that she had been planning not to take them pills that night in the first place. 

 

“You say that like I'm getting addicted or something…” Minjung blushed, sitting down beside Gwiboon and resting her head on her roommate’s shoulder. Gwiboon tapped her head on top of Minjung's before going back to concentrating on her nails. She was starting to draw cute little pineapples on her big toes in nail pens and Minjung stared, not watching but looking.

 

“Well they are drugs, you know, Minjung. You don't even know what’s in them.” That was something Minjung considered. She didn't know what was in them and she had a sort of horrible feeling it was something illegal or poisonous considering the shimmering colour of the pills and the fact Taemin hadn’t seemed to have reported it to the rest of the scientific community. 

 

“Even so, I don't think I can get addicted in two days,” Minjung mumbled, shrugging. Gwiboon had moved on to applying a layer of glitter gloss, letting it drop and dry all over her sheets. That told Minjung she wasn't planning on staying the night. 

 

“You don't know how drugs work, ‘Junggie. You're a good girl…” Minjung pouted playfully and Gwiboon placed a kiss to the top of her head. “Just… One night. A week. You spent years not dreaming, I'm sure another few nights won't hurt you.” Minjung bit her lip, chewing on the dry skin of it. She needed to drink some water. Or eat something. Probably both. She knew by then that Gwiboon definitely didn't plan on sticking around, which meant that Minjung would have to go get food on her own. It was awkward enough when she went Gwi and Joy, who completely ignored the entire time. Looking like a loner was just barely worse.

 

“Seriously, Gwi, you don't want me to enjoy this? They work, those pills. Maybe I don't know a lot about them, but what do you really know about the tap beers you drink in strangers garages? Isn't it the same?” Gwiboon waved her feet about, trying to get them to dry quicker, completely ignoring Minjung’s words. The only way Minjung even knew that Gwiboon had taken notice of the words was by the little frown that took over her lips when she looked up. Minjung was about to apologise when Gwiboon, a little angrily, pushed Minjung away. Minjung shifted with the push to lie back against the wall, straining her neck because of the angle she lay at. 

 

“That’s different,” she said, sharply. A glob of gloss slipped from Gwiboon’s nail and dripped down her toe. She didn’t move to wipe it away. “I didn’t get drugged by a couple of strangers to find my beer. I’m not some creepy kid’s little beer lab rat, am I?” Minjung scoffed, finally moving to go and stand beside her own bed. Her shoes were only a few feet away and she considered just leaving to get food. Fighting with Gwiboon was rarely a loud affair, at least not on Minjung’s side of the argument, but it usually ended with more than a few hurt feelings and regrettable words. Minjung wasn’t in the mood for such a fight right then.

 

“I don’t really care what you think of Taemin, Gwiboon. He’s given me something that I’ve been wishing for for my whole life!” Minjung didn’t know where these words were coming from. They certainly weren’t things Minjung had really been thinking about. Maybe they were just the product of her rather competitive nature, her desire not to lose anything, not even an argument that really shouldn’t even have been taking place. Or maybe they were things she really thought. Minjung couldn’t tell, and she found that she really didn’t want to find out. 

 

“You wouldn’t even be thinking about any of this if he hadn’t shown up! You were happy without dreaming!” Gwiboon argued, getting loud as she hopped to her feet.

 

“Can’t I be happy now that I can, too?” Minjung asked, voice soft. Gwiboon snorted, rolling her eyes so dramatically that it took everything in Minjung not to storm out right then. She hated fighting, because in actuality, she knew that Gwiboon was right. That those pills were dangerous, that she had gotten along just fine not dreaming. But getting a taste of what she had been missing out on left Minjung insatiably craving more. She wanted to feel, imagine,  _ whatever _ , Junghee’s lips again. She wanted to ride with Eunsook until her sleeping body fell apart and rotted in her dreams. She was so fed up of  _ life _ . How could she go back when she’s gotten a taste of unreality, and it was  _ good _ ? 

 

“Minjung, if you take those damn drugs again, I’m kicking you out of this dorm,” Gwiboon said, distantly. It wasn’t Gwiboon that had moved away, but Minjung. She felt like she was floating outside of her body, cocooned by her own thoughts and hopes and the sweet memories of her dreams. She was going to get kicked out of her dorm. 

 

“I’m going to get some food. Will you be here when I get back?” Minjung turned on her toes, stuffing her feet into her shoes. She kept her voice carefully blank, something she was well accustomed to doing it, and her face soon followed her voice’s lead, straightening into nothingness. Gwiboon stepped forward, eyes still sharp but more cautiously now, knowing that Minjung wasn’t prepared to fight with her anymore. 

 

“Are we done with this whole dream ordeal?” she asked, though Minjung heard the real question beneath it.  _ Do you need me to be here for you? _ Minjung forced out a chuckle and shook her head, beginning out the door. 

 

“I think I can manage one more night without any dreams,” she agreed, answering the unspoken question as well as the spoken one. Gwiboon looked skeptical but she didn’t question it. Minjung smiled until she shut the door behind her, then letting her face fall back into neutrality. 

 

\---

 

The first thing Minjung saw when she walked into the cafeteria was Jinki. She immediately tore her eyes away from him and they landed on Krystal, Taemin and Jonghyun. Jonghyun was the only one facing her, so he saw her instantly. He frowned desperately at her, obviously trying to signal for her to leave. Minjung was inclined to agree with him, turning to leave and go get takeout from in the city or something, but she felt someone grab her arm before she had even fully turned her back. She tore from their grip, wide eyes latching onto them. 

 

It was only Amber. Somehow, out of the mess of people all around her, only Amber and Jonghyun had managed to see her. 

 

“Hey, Minjung!” The other woman grinned, throwing her arm around Minjung’s shoulders. Her little ponytail got uncomfortably caught under Amber’s arm and she felt overwhelmingly trapped. She jerked away from Amber awkwardly, rubbing her arm where it tingled; it was in the same place as where Taemin had touched what seemed like days ago, but was really bared 48 hours. Amber blinked, confused, at Minjung's avoidance, frowning hugely. Minjung tried to smile at her, to try and assure her that everything was fine, but she could see Jinki walking up behind Amber, looking like he had something to say, and it was not hard not to feel Jonghyun's panicked eyes upon her. 

 

“Minjung-” Minjung just shook her head, backing away. She needed to get out. Jinki was fast-approaching, and Amber was reaching out to grab her again.

 

“Amber, sorry, I really can't right now!” She whispered urgently, stepping, stumbling _ ,  _ through the cafeteria doors and out into the fresh air. She couldn't breathe, all the air in her lungs had vanished and she could feel tears beginning to swell in her throat. She couldn't believe she'd even tried to defend Taemin when she could barely look at the back of his head. 

 

She started down the path through the quad, trying to get out of sight of the cafeteria as quickly as she could. With no air in her lungs and her brain choking in fear, it was difficult to do anything but drunkenly stumble across a grassed area around the side of the building and she couldn't move quickly enough. 

 

“Minjung! Minjung, please!” Jinki called out behind her. It was the first time she'd ever heard him raise his voice, but he didn't sound like he was yelling. Somehow his voice sounded exactly the same at speaking volume and calling out. He didn't run after her, but Minjung couldn't run away either, so he caught up quickly.

 

“Go away, Jinki…” she breathed, still stumbling. Jinki’s broad strides kept up with her easily, despite how much taller she was and how much longer her legs were, “Please go away.” Jinki didn’t say anything for a while, just walking along beside her as she tried to get away. Honestly, Minjung knew Jinki was the least of her problems, what with Gwiboon and Taemin and whatever was going on with Jonghyun; that didn’t mean, however, that she wanted to be with him. 

 

“Why did you go looking for me earlier?” she asked, pausing for a second in her wandering to look at Jinki. He stared back, eyes dark and flicking over Minjung’s face, thoughtfully. She wondered whether he would even answer as he stood staring for so long. But then, almost awkwardly, his face brightening into a wide grin and he laughed lowly at her. 

 

“Jonghyun told me what happened with you at that party. It disappointed me…” he shrugged, casting his eyes over the ground. It was more than a little shocking to hear that Jonghyun and Jinki knew each other, though Minjung figured she should have been able to work that out simply because he had written her notes in place of Jonghyun. Jinki didn’t seem like the type of person who could allow himself to be friends with such an awful person. 

 

“Disappointed you?” she asked, sharply, looking right at Jinki’s eyes. She couldn’t look into them because Jinki was still smiling stupidly at the ground. Without thinking, Minjung stepped forward, stamping her feet down right into his line of sight. Everything was so hectic in her mind; all she could think about was how badly she wanted to sleep, and to wake up with everything back to how it had been. Jinki looked up, and though the damned smile had not budged from his lips, he looked much more serious somehow than he had done before. 

 

“I thought we were at least close enough for you to mention that you don’t dream,” he explained, tilting his head in such a way that Minjung couldn’t deny even then that he looked cute. She was beginning to hate Jinki.

 

“Not disappointing that your friend drugged me, though?” she snapped. Jinki raised his eyebrow in surprise, eyes getting bigger in distress. Minjung was disgusted that she could tell he hadn’t even thought about it. “You know what Jinki, this is ridiculous. I’m hungry, and I’m gonna go get some food, so please leave me alone.” Minjung was well used to dulling her face, and it was one of those times that she kept her face blank, mouth nothing but an emotionless, straight line. Jinki didn’t stop smiling. In fact, his grin only got bigger. He grabbed Minjung by the arm before she could even get more than a step away.

 

“That’s disappointing too,” he agreed easily, in a way that made Minjung think he was just saying it to make her listen to him, “But I have something to tell you. I’ve been meaning to tell since Jonghyun told me, but when I saw your mood earlier…” 

 

“You think my mood is any better now?” Minjung tried to tear her arm away, but Jinki was much stronger than he looked, and at that moment far stronger than her. She was about to scream for help. There were enough people around that Minjung was sure someone would run to her rescue and drag Jinki away. He didn’t take her anywhere though, just held her arm as tightly as though he just needed to keep her there, which made Minjung hesitant. Jinki never had been the sort of person to do anyone any harm. 

 

“I didn’t say that,” Jinki said, mildly, loosening his grip on her arm enough that if she wanted to escape him then, she could. Maybe, Minjung thought, Jinki had thought the same way she did, as he certainly was no longer making sure that she stayed in his arms. Maybe he knew she was going to listen now, “I know you took those dream pills last night, and that’s why you slept so long. How many did you take? Two? Three?” he asked, his voice molded to be musing and gentle, like he was moving carefully to not spook an animal. “I did that the first night I took them too. I took three and slept the day away, until my mom had to call the emergency services because she thought I might be dead…” he explained, in that same voice that demanded Minjung to listen. 

 

“You take the pills too?” she asked, quietly, letting the pieces of his explanation settle in her mind. It wasn’t something she and Jinki had ever discussed before- dreaming wasn’t someone Minjung tended to discuss with anyone, least of all a relative stranger, no matter how close of a friend they considered themselves to be. It wasn’t something she ever really thought about concerning other people. Minjung just assumed everyone she met could dream, that she was automatically different. 

 

Jinki nodded, dropping his arm to his side again, standing awkwardly formal and straight, hands lying dead at his sides. He looked for a moment incredibly vulnerable, a look that Minjung had never once associated with him. Jinki was anything but vulnerable; strong, bright, almost insufferably  _ happy  _ but never vulnerable.

 

“And that’s how you know Jonghyun? Because he can’t dream either?” Minjung asked, biting on her lip. Jinki nodded slowly, setting his face in a way that was eerily similar to the way Minjung did it, letting his face fall defensively blank. Minjung wrapped her arms around herself, angling herself away from Jinki as best she could while still being able to face him. He shifted smoothly back to stand in front of her, lips twitching up into an amused little grin. The smile disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived, but Minjung felt somewhat comforted to know that it was still there. 

 

“I met Taemin first. I met Jonghyun while I was getting more pills one day,” Jinki offered, hands clenching into fists at his sides that he quickly shoved flatly into the pockets of his jeans when he noticed Minjung’s gaze. Running his tongue over his lips, Jinki went on, unsmiling, “Krystal, too. I met her way back, when she started here at the beginning of the year. She was the one that told Taemin you couldn’t dream, neither me or Jonghyun knew.” Jinki’s eyebrows frowned a little, imploring Minjung to believe him. 

 

“Why?” It was the only word Minjung knew how to formulate. It meant so much for the small word that it was. Jinki could have taken it to mean practically anything, and yet somehow he gave the exact answer Minjung had been looking for. Maybe any answer would have been the answer she was looking for. 

 

“Taemin said the sample size was too small. I don’t know how many of us he’s testing these pills on, but he was insistent that he wanted more, he said it to me every time we met up.” Jinki hunched his shoulders up, looking more and more awkward as the moments passed, and Minjung decided, after a long moment of hesitant thought, to start walking again, gesturing for Jinki to follow her. Her stomach was purring with hunger, and Minjung knew Jinki not to be a person to turn down food if it was offered. She needed to think, and to think she needed at least a moment of calm. Jinki walked beside her, hands in his pockets. Minjung couldn’t help noticing that if his hands had been by his sides they would have been brushing against hers. As it was, both of them being quite broad-shouldered, she could feel the cool swipe of air as he moved on her arm. Jinki was amusingly shorter than she was, and with the advantage of being angled above him, she couldn’t help spying down at his face.

 

“So, Taemin is testing these pills, like those lab trials that people get paid for doing?” Minjung asked, pressing her lips together, a little annoyed. That sounded too similar to what Gwiboon had said earlier, that Minjung was just some cheap lab rat, for her to be comfortable. Jinki made an awkward movement, like a shrug but mixed with a shudder, like an insect was crawling up his back. Minjung snorted a little, finding the gesture an mixture of adorable and odd. Grinning up at her, Jinki pushed his long hair back from his face. It looked like it hadn’t been cut for much too long, but it was silky well cared for anyway. Minjung wondered what he dreamed about. She wasn’t sure what factors had caused her to dream of pretty people and cities covered by smoke, but she wondered if those same factors had made Jinki dream of something similar or something completely different. 

 

“I guess so… I never really thought about it like that,” he mumbled out, somehow in a voice still clearly audible, “I just take the pills, he never checks up on me other than the occasional ‘hey, how you doing?’, and sometimes he doesn’t even let me speak when he asks me that.” Jinki’s hand stayed pinning his hair back from his face, and with the entirety of it uncovered, Minjung couldn’t help staring at him. It was in that strange way that she felt in her dreams, like she wasn’t in control of herself; her body was making her do things she didn’t even particularly want to do and she was just intaking the information. There was something about Jinki that made her like that. Uncontrolled.

 

“Well, I mean, if you keep coming back for more, he must know that you’re fine…” Minjung mused, tucking some strands of her hair behind her ear when they got in the way of her view of Jinki. He didn’t seem to have noticed her stare, or if he did, he didn’t seem to particularly care about it. 

 

“I guess so…” he repeated, biting on the end of his tongue. It stuck out of his mouth a little, and he looked so intensely concentrated for a moment. Minjung felt stupid for not having realised before that he was remembering something. They had wandered off campus by then, trailing up the pavement on a main road leading out of the campus. It was really much too early for any sort of dinner foods, but Minjung found herself craving cookies. She thought of the burnt mess Junghee had cooked up for her and then promptly decided to let that craving go cold for the moment. “Taemin doesn’t seem like that sort of person though,” Jinki said suddenly, looking up at Minjung with a more serious expression, meaningful. “He doesn’t seem to think about things that way, you know? He gets excited when we tell him about our dreams, he genuinely doesn’t want us to thank him for what he’s done… I think he really just wants to help us.”

 

“Yeah, he really helped me when he forced those pills into me and made me pass out in some stranger’s closet. That was real helpful.” Jinki pulled a face, letting his hair drop back into his face to wave his hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture. Minjung scowled, but Jinki didn’t let up. 

 

“That was… extreme, I admit. And he totally shouldn’t have done it. But, he had the best intentions in mind. Are you seriously the sort of person who would believe some random you met at a party about literally curing you?” Minjung scowled deeper and didn’t reply. He had a point. A point that wasn’t particularly valid in the circumstance, but a point nonetheless. “He just really wanted you to believe him. And in the end, he was right. You took them again, didn’t you?” 

 

“So you’re saying the ends justify the means?” Minjung asked, accusatorily. Jinki chewed in his lip, the smile unravelling from them like Minjung was pulling out a string and unravelling an entire blanket. “I’m not taking the pills anymore anyway.” Jinki straightened, eyes wide with surprise.

 

“You’re… You’re not?” he almost gasped it out, eyes wide with disbelief, “I never- I haven’t stopped taking them since Taemin gave them to me. It’s been three years…” It was Minjung’s turn to gasp then. She couldn’t even believe that Jinki would be able to keep taking pills for that long. While she didn't think it had an effect on him, at least in the year that Minjung had known him, Jinki had been consistent, never changing. It was kind of shocking now that she thought about it. She always found him in the same places, at the same times, and he had never been late to a tutor session. 

 

“Isn't it… bad for you?” she asked, pursing her lips. Jinki shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself so he was curled up a little. He looked around and stopped outside a barbecue place. It was barely open yet, but Jinki nodded towards the door for Minjung to follow him in. And she did just that, brushing past him as he held the door open for her and seating herself at the corner of the room, next to a window. Jinki followed without complaint, sitting down opposite her. 

 

“It’s never made me sick,” he answered, belatedly, but Minjung knew what he was referring to.

 

“But can you stop?” Minjung rephrased, Gwiboon’s words echoing in her mind. Jinki was staring down at the table, drumming his fingers on the hardwood, skilfully avoiding all the sticky spots in a way that felt rehearsed. He obviously came here a lot, Jinki seemed like the sort of person who would have a set routine. 

 

“I’ve never tried. Why would I want to?” He shrugged, voice too airy for the situation. It was almost as though he didn't care anymore, and Minjung wondered whether it was the pills that did that or if it was just… Jinki. “I always used to daydream when I was a kid, dream about what it would be like to dream in the night when I really had the time. Isn't that pathetic?” Minjung shook her head but before she could argue Jinki was going on, “Now, I can dream, and it's just like my old daydreaming but it doesn't get in the way of the day anymore. With those pills, we dream better than anyone who dreams naturally.” Something was beginning to glitter in his eyes, and Minjung was starting to feel like there really was something more to that pill than anyone had suggested to her. 

 

“What is there to eat here?” She asked, blandly, just trying to get Jinki to stop talking about dreaming. She had decided she wasn't going to take them again, talking to Jinki had made everything seem so much more than what it appeared, and Minjung wasn't stupid. She also wasn't going to apologise to Gwiboon, despite how everything seemed to be going exactly the way she had predicted it to go. Jinki perked up at the mention of food and grabbed a menu reflexively. He pushed it towards her in the same manner that he would when they studied together, his finger lingering over the words as he made them out upside down. In the store, he didn't seem to need to think about it, he knew the words by heart already. Minjung followed his finger along the laminate, nodding as he gave a review of some of the dishes. 

 

“I think you’d like the ribs? Once you said you like red meat…” Jinki mused eventually. Maybe it should have been annoying that he told her about everything before he even suggested anything, but Minjung thought it was cute. She'd leaned over the table like she did when they were learning, automatically attracted to the source of his voice. 

 

“Did I?” she chuckled, sitting back. She did actually like red meat, though she couldn't ever remember saying to him. They’d had so many little, irrelevant conversations over their time together, and yet Minjung found herself struggling to remember much about Jinki at all, bar his mannerisms. 

 

“Yeah… It was a while ago. We were gonna go to dinner, but then you had a tournament so we cancelled.” Jinki blushed, kicking his feet under the table. He blushed harder when his leg brushed hers, though neither of them commented on it.

 

“I don't remember that at all,” Minjung laughed, starting to feel a little uncomfortable when she noticed the way Jinki’s face had dropped. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more certain she became that she and Jinki had never arranged to go out together. She and Jinki had never had much of a relationship outside of the weekly library meetups. And Minjung surely wouldn't plan to meet up with him before a match- she usually knew about weeks in advance. Jinki didn't look at her, determined to keep his eyes everywhere but on her. 

 

They sat in a heavy sort of silence, until the server came over to take their orders, then continued it after they left. The silence was filled with unspoken words and assumptions, which, while not an unusual type of silence, was unusual to them. Minjung felt like had learned more of Jinki in the past half hour than she ever had the year she had known him. And with that thought came the realisation that she really hadn't learned that much just then either. 

 

“Do you ever have nightmares?” Minjung eventually had to break the silence, and with it broke a new, less tense sort of awkwardness. Jinki looked at her reflection in the window and Minjung couldn't help laughing at the pensive expression on his face and the over dramatic nature of the gesture. It was something so inherently Jinki.

 

“I’ve never had one. Nothing really scares me anyway. But Jonghyun told me the other day that he dreamed about getting his dream datefriend getting trapped in this city,” Jinki told her, resting his head in his palm, uninterestedly. Minjung sat up straight. “He was so upset about it, he came crying right to me. We hadn't seen each other outside of Taemin’s place before, I don't even know how he got my dorm number…” 

 

Minjung nearly fussed as it dawned on her. It wasn’t a gentle realisation either, no slow awakening. In one awful rush of emotion, Minjung just knew she had been in Jonghyun's dream. She'd hijacked his thoughts, delved into his mind in a way much more intimate than she ever had wanted to get with him.

 

“His datefriend… Their name is Eunsook?” she asked urgently. Jinki was already sat up, watching Minjung with a sort of morbid curiosity.

 

“I think so. It was definitely something like that.” He nodded. Minjung studied Jinki’s face, trying to force her mind back to two nights ago, to remember Eunsook’s face and match it to Jinki’s. They looked the same, soft features and wide smiles, eyes that glittered with a light that didn't shine. It made sense that Jonghyun would run straight to Jinki when Jinki was the root of his nightmare. But where did she come into all of this? “Okay, Minjung?” He asked, mildly, casting his eyes over her face. 

 

“I was in his dream. Eunsook, I met them, and Junghee- Jonghyun, whoever the fuck they are!” Jinki leaned in, completely enrapt. If they had not been in public, Minjung would have slapped him or looking like that about her life. She needed to call Gwiboon. “Sorry, this is just…” She shook her head and Jinki nodded. It made her feel sick to watch it, or maybe she was just feeling sick again in general. 

 

“I understand,” he said, looking like he didn't really understand, but wanted to. He held his hand out to Minjung and while neither seemed exactly sure what he intended to have done with it, but Minjung rested her hand in it. It wasn't exactly holding hands, and it was a little more than just awkward, but Jinki’s hand was warm where Minjung's was breaking out in cold shakes and she welcomed the comfort of it. “I don't know how that would work… I always thought the dreamstuff came from our minds. Or our desires,” he said, closing his fingers around Minjung's hand. She didn't hold him back, but she further appreciated the warmth of him.

 

“Eunsook… They look just like you,” Minjung whispered, a little cautiously. She figured that Jonghyun had a crush on Jinki or something, and that was why he was his dream datefriend, but she didn't exactly want to reveal that to Jinki so carelessly. 

 

“Figures… Jonghyun told me he has a crush on me months ago. Don't you think that’s kinda cute?” Jinki chuckled, smile spreading across his face in the most affectionate way Minjung imagined a smile could manifest itself. 

 

“But isn't he with Taemin?” She blurted out, much to Jinki’s continued amusement. He shook his head, leaning his cheek on his free hand and gazing up at Minjung mirthfully.

 

“Nah. I think they’ve hooked up, but they’re not dating. Not that it would matter to Taemin anyway, he doesn't care about dating like that.” Jinki pulled his hand away from Minjung's to spread hers flat across the table. He started to fold each of her fingers over, tickling her palm with each of her fingers and brushing it with his own. They both watched their joined hands; the act felt strangely intimate. 

 

“Did you dream of me?” Jinki’s lip twitched into a smirk, and he nodded slowly. “And you got mixed up between a dream and reality earlier?” Jinki blushed then, but still nodded, his hands awkwardly stilling,!wrapped around hers. 

 

“I dreamed of you the first night we met. We had a study date. That was why I asked if you wanted to study with me,” he admitted, shy in a way that was unlike him, but still in a way that was not shy at all. Jinki was such a strange combination of opposites that Minjung couldn't help being entranced, “I actually never cared about songwriting, but it was I knew to ask you about.” Minjung took her turn to nod thoughtfully, curling her fingers back around Jinki’s. Now she had seen what the dreams were like with the pills, she found Jinki dreaming about her both creepy and endearing, leaning towards endearing considering that he couldn't really control it. 

 

They both spent a time staring at their joined hands on the table, until the waiter came back and placed their dishes on the table. At that, the two jumped apart, laughing awkwardly, shy blushed painting their cheeks. Minjung was pretty sure she saw the server roll their eyes at the two of them, but they were the ones smiling across the table as the waiter turned their back.

 

\---

 

Minjung woke up gasping. There wasn't the same awful, nauseating pain she had felt for the past two days, that while leaving in a state near vomiting, did not at all incapacitate her: it was something much worse. Anxiety strong enough to make her stomach turn and her body tremor like the ground in a volcanic eruption. Her body was still not awake like her mind, and she lay, shivering and terrified, staring up at the black ceiling that she knew was not her own. Her eyes blurred, at first with tears, and then with fear, and then simply because her body was not ready yet to awake. There was a heavy, suffocating pressure upon her chest, like someone was sat right on her heart, crushing her ribs until she couldn't breathe. 

 

The body beside her snored, unawoken by her frantic gasps and clawing at the sheets with her hands. She could barely move them, but they clung to the sheets, white-knuckled. The world blurred, falling drunkenly to the side as a light began to shine against the ceiling. It was orange and half-shadowed, something Minjung could only assume was the sunrise through a window somewhere to the right of her. She closed her eyes, forcing deep breaths through her broken chest. She waited, letting light and trails of colour dance across her eyelids, it was all she could do. Until the aching numbness of her limbs dissipated, she was rendered useless, completely alone in her terror. She could feel the body beside her- Jinki, she reminded herself- move every now and then, at one point wrapping his arm around her chest and nearly causing her another panic attack at the touch. She begged him in her mind to wake up and save her, but he slept soundly. 

 

It had been a long time since Minjung last experienced sleep paralysis. It had been just after she and Irene had broken up, when she had to get used to sleeping alone and facing the nights without Irene’s warm body there to keep her from falling throughout the night. Gwiboon had let her sleep in her bed that night, had held her

just as Minjung had requested, but still the darkness had gripped as soon as she closed her eyes. Then, she hadn't even been able to move her hands. She had been completely frozen, eyes glued shut. All she could do was force herself to breath. Like that, she had been stuck for hours, the entire night, until Gwiboon got up the following morning and slowly the feeling had come back to Minjung. She had cried and cried that day, and Gwiboon had held her the entire time, until that night when she suggested she sleep in her own bed. Minjung had and the sleep paralysis left her. The grip of her dreamless sleep had not. 

 

Luckily, Minjung did not have wait so long for her paralysis to wear off this time, as it seemed Jinki would not ever wake up. When Minjung regained control of her stiffened body, she immediately curled into a ball, turning her back to Jinki, and cried. She was glad, just then, that Jinki seemed oblivious to the woken world while he slept, as he didn’t even stir as she wept. It was better that way. Crying, Minjung had always regarded as an acceptance of her weakness and her inability to fix it. She was truly pathetic when she cried. 

 

After she had finished crying, Minjung got up, letting the sheets pool around her waist and ride down Jinki’s body. Despite having given her some clothes to sleep in, Jinki was still dressed in the clothes he had worn the day before, jeans and all. If Minjung hadn't spent the entire night with him, she would have thought he was drunk or something. It turned out he was just really lazy. The bed wasn't quite big enough for the two of them, and for the sake of Minjung’s heavy, stiff body, Jinki had pressed himself up against the wall, practically lying up it. He didn't seem like he really cared. 

 

Stretching, Minjung sat and stared at him, expectant that the eyes on him would at least wake him up a little, make him stir, but she was sat strenching her hamstrings much longer than she had thought she would. Eventually, after shaking her body from the comfort the bed, she took Jinki's arm in her tight grasp and started to shake him awake. He complained noisily, with a whine, but Minjung was unfazed. She held him tighter, pushing him harder back against the wall until he finally opened his eyes. They were half-glued shut and he squinted at her angrily. The result was hilariously adorable but she daren't point it out to him.

 

“Minjung?” he asked, reaching a hand from under the blanket to scratch his face. He missed his cheek and poked himself in the eye but he didn't react. He buried deeper into the pillow. Minjung dug deeper into his arm and, with a cry, he finally sat up. “My legs hurt…” He looked disoriented, glancing around his own room like he was lost. His eyes were wide and frightened and it took everything Minjung had within her not throw her arms around him and comfort his poor, shuddering body. 

 

“I told you not wear those jeans,” Minjung chuckled awkwardly, “You insisted it would be fine...” Jinki nodded, silent and observing. His hand lay awkwardly across his face, fingers hanging in front of his eyes so Minjung couldn't quite see all of them. It made his stare that much more unnerving. “Are you okay?” 

 

“I haven't not dreamed in so long…” he whispered, voice still rough with his awakening, “I forgot what waking up was like.” Minjung frowned sympathetically, slowly moving to rest her hand on his forehead.

 

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. He was really hot considering how cool the room was and a little sticky with sweat but Minjung didn't mind. It was when she felt his head throb that she drew her hand away, expecting him to get up and follow her. He didn't; Minjung stared at him for about five more seconds before she realised he’d fallen asleep again.

 

“Oh, for God’s sakes.” She rolled her legs out from under the blanket, placing her feet on the cold floor. The room was actually much colder than she had expected it to be, colder than even Jinki’s thick clothes could warm. She shivered, padding across the room to retrieve her clothes from the day before. They were still neatly folded on Jinki's desk, piled on top of a bunch of books that Jinki had recommended she take a look at. They were mostly nonfiction, which Minjung had no particular interest in, but she was willing to try them if Jinki thought she would like them. She had a feeling he had dreamt she liked them, but now, that didn't feel as weird as it had before. 

 

When she had changed (hurriedly, in fear that Jinki would wake and see her), Minjung hovered awkwardly beside his bed. She knew waking him up was generally a bad idea. Waking up dreamless was already disorienting and sickening, when someone woke her up she always felt ten times worse. She also didn't want to leave without telling him that she had gone. Judging by how Jinki had slept the night before, not awakening until hours and hours after Minjung- granted she couldn't say that she knew exactly how long she had been in sleep paralysis for- she wasn't totally sure she was willing to sit and wait for him for another few hours. Thankfully, it was not something she had to long contemplate, as Jinki was grumbling into his pillow not ten minutes later.

 

“Minjung? Are you still there?” Minjung leant one knee on the bed so she could lean over him a little. He rolled over to look up at her. This time he looked much more awake and reasonable. Minjung wondered, briefly, if he had even been asleep at all, or if he had simply been collecting himself. She didn't ask him.

 

“I need to leave soon.” Jinki pushed at her gently to make her move, and slowly sat up. His eyes were narrowed as if he was squinting at the light in the room, Minjung could safely say there was no light at all. She was pretty sure he had blackout curtains or something, and she'd shut them to get changed. 

 

“Let me get changed, I'll walk you back,” he offered, smiling a wide, close-lipped grin. With the way he was looking at her, she couldn't tell him no, though she was pretty certain Gwiboon was going to freak out if she was back at the dorm and saw him. “... Did you sleep well?” he asked, delicately, switching places with Minjung so she sat in the bed facing the wall and he went to search for clothes in his wardrobe. She heard him dragging clothes along on their hangers and she let the fluid, scraping sounds fill the silence for a while.

 

Had she slept fine? 

 

The night before, the two of them had decided not to take the dream pills. Jinki was sure he would be much more affected by it than Minjung would be, but he had agreed. He had said he had never even considered getting addicted, it was like taking medication, something you couldn't really get addicted to. Though she had agreed (that she had considered it non-addictive), they both thought it would be best if they just… slept. For a night. Jinki had suggested they stay at his dorm to do it, and Minjung hadn't said no. It would be easier that way, he had said, so they could check the other didn't take the pills. Minjung hadn't needed convincing. 

 

“It was… The same as it always was,” she said back, treading through her words as though she was picking them carefully. She in fact wasn't, but she didn't know what to say. The pills effects weren't permanent, they depended upon taking them. She could see that even with Jinki, the night had truly been, horrible. The cling of nothingness had affected her more than it ever had, even when she was child. It was like she could feel each of her thoughts disappearing one by one, the functions that kept her awake switching off. It wasn't like drowning or falling, where it felt like there could be an end, it was like being suspended in a single moment, in complete darkness, with no hope of escape. 

 

It was kind of unbelievable that it had taken only two nights for Minjung to forget how awful sleeping could be. She looked to Jinki. Surely it must have been worse still for him. 

 

“Yeah,” Jinki breathed. She heard click of a hanger and some angry shuffling as he got changed. “It was the same as it always was. I just forgot what ‘always was’ is like. I felt like I was  _ dying _ , Minjung.” His voice was distant, quiet, like he was thinking more than he was talking to her. She nodded, though she was sure he wasn't looking. “Those pills. I don't care if they're killing me from the inside out, if they're burning holes in my stomach or my veins. I'm not sleeping without them again.” Minjung nodded once more, more vigorously this time. She agreed. For years she slept restlessly, trapped for hours in the emptiness of her own mind. Surely a medicine that gave her relief was worth any cost. And Jinki, he was fine after taking them for years. Minjung curled her hands into fists in her lap. Gwiboon would have to understand. 

 

“Are you done yet? What are you doing, swapping skins?” Minjung asked into the empty air after she felt it becoming slowly more tense. She didn't know where the tension was rooted, but Minjung wanted to pull it out. Jinki laughed shyly, and she imagined that he was blushing a little, or smiling in the way that meant it didn't reach his eyes and made them glitter. 

 

“I'm sorry I want to look good in front of your roommate.” He sounded like he was rolling his eyes. He went silent for a moment before he tapped at her shoulder. She jumped, gasping, and turned to look at him. He didn't look any different from how he usually did, except maybe a little sweatier, but he hadn't sounded like he was joking. She stood up, and Jinki hovered awkwardly in front of her. 

 

“You say that like we’re dating or something,” she laughed, grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards the door. He laughed along with her, much dimmer, stumbling now to keep up with her long, quick strides. He caught up, slipping his wrist out of her loose grip but keeping his hand close to hers, and resultantly his body too. She didn't mind too much. His heat radiated off of him and warmed her cool body in a way that the sun didn't.

 

“Who says we aren’t? You slept in my bed last night!” He didn't sound serious, so Minjung didn't take him seriously. Somehow, joking with Jinki always felt so natural. 

 

“I sleep in Gwiboon’s bed a lot too. I'm sure Joy wouldn't be very happy to heard that Gwi has been cheating this whole time.” He shrugged, pouting out his lips cutely. “Anyway, what makes you think I like boys? Didn't you hear that I dated Irene?” Jinki looked down at her, measuring her like he was considering something. Then he turned away, smile growing on his lips again.

 

“What makes you think I'm a boy?” He retorted, sticking his chin out. Minjung raised an eyebrow. He had a point. Jinki had never actually told her he was boy. She had kind of just assumed it when he’d told her to call him ‘he’. 

 

“Are you not?” she queried, softly, tilting her head up at him.

 

“Would I have asked if I was?” he smirked back down at her, playful glint in his eyes that made her still unsure if he was joking or not. It didn't really make a difference anyway.

 

\---

 

“I can't believe you slept at a boy’s place.” 

 

Jinki was standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. Minjung empathised with him, she wanted to be anywhere else as well. Gwiboon and Joy were sat on a bed each, Joy sticking her feet out at Gwiboon’s chest so her girlfriend could paint her nails the same atrociously neon shade of orange as the floaty top she donned; it may or may not have been some elaborate piece of lingerie. Gwiboon hadn’t looked at either of them as they had bustled in, grinning and giggling in a way that Minjung had to admit had probably looked childishly lovestruck. Neither had really intended it to look that way, but they had been thoughtlessly enjoying the other’s company. 

 

“I can't believe you even know any boys!” Joy exclaimed. She had looked as soon as the door had opened, gasping so loudly it had frozen both Minjung and Jinki in their tracks, and caused them to be in the awkward positions they were in when Gwiboon had spoken. 

 

“I have a brother,” Minjung said, flatly, perching on the end of her bed beside Gwiboon. Joy shrugged dramatically, still beaming. She had too much energy and Minjung was sure it was sapping the energy from everyone around her too. Jinki was still stood in the doorway, which everything feel a little more awkward than it needed to. Before Minjung could gesture for him to leave, Gwiboon was talking again.

 

“Did you sleep well last night?” It took Minjung a jolting moment, in which the choking memories of her dreamlessness washed over her again, to reply and that was really all the answer Gwiboon needed.

 

“I didn't take the pills if that’s what you're asking.” Gwiboon dropped Joy’s foot heavily into her lap and threw her arms around Minjung. The polish applicator came dangerously close to painting Minjung’s hair orange too, and she could hear Jinki gulping back laughter behind her. She felt Gwiboon adjust her hair, no doubt to glare at him, and his guffaws were soon silenced. 

 

“And how was it…?” she whispered, keeping her voice low to keep it private. Minjung appreciated the gesture, turning her head into Gwiboon’s hair to reply. 

 

“It was no better, Gwi… The pills,” Minjung knew better than to call them drugs when it came to Gwiboon. “I  _ need  _ them, Gwi; they’re making me better.” Gwiboon tucked her head into Minjung’s neck, sighing softly. Over Gwiboon’s shoulder, Minjung could clearly see Joy had been listening. Her hands fidgeted anxiously, like she was trying to pretend to dry her painted fingernails- matching the shocking lime green of her pants- but she just looked out of place and unnecessarily awkward. Catching Minjung’s eye, she looked away, down at the corner of Gwiboon’s bed. Suspicion rose but Minjung wasn’t quite sure what she should be suspicious of. 

 

“Minjung…” 

 

“I can promise you they’re safe,” she continued, the worry settling when she heard the tone of Gwiboon’s voice, “ Last night, it was worse than anything I remembered. Dreaming... Dreaming is everything I’ve ever wanted Gwiboon-”

 

“Minjung.” Gwiboon sat back, rocking onto the balls of feets and holding Minjung back by the shoulders. Minjung pressed her lips together, wide eyes searching Gwiboon’s face for any hint of what she had to say before it came. She hated not knowing. Gwiboon was always too sharp, too honest, and Minjung wasn’t sure she could take it. Her eyes, finding nothing but saddened sympathy etched into her roommate’s face, felt automatically drawn to Joy, whose fidgeting became instantly more prominent upon hearing Gwiboon begin speaking. She didn’t look at Minjung still, but she did glance at the doorway. Minjung was reminded that Jinki still stood there, and she had to hold herself back from looking at him. 

 

“Gwiboon?” she asked, softly. Gwiboon averted her eyes, staring down at Minjung’s nervous fingers, that played with the ends of Jinki's raying shorts, pulling at strings until they tightened the material into bunches. 

 

“I threw away your damn pills, Minjung!” she snapped, tossing her hands in the air and falling back with the force of her explosion onto her ass. It took Minjung half a second to recognise the meaning behind the words. They made perfect sense, it was exactly the type of thing Minjung would expect Gwiboon tell her about in a story. Not something she thought Gwiboon would do to her. “Oh, don’t look like that. I had to, you were getting your hopes up about them, I could see. I don’t want you to think you can just take those things without consequences.” Minjung wasn’t aware she had been making any face, but if she had been, she thought it was pretty justified. 

 

“Gwiboon…” Minjung fell back a little bit, almost falling off the bed with how little space she had left. She felt a warm hand on her back, steadying her and she shook it away. She didn’t want Jinki’s comfort right then. She didn’t really want anything, “How could you do that?” Minjung shot to her feet, hands shaking as she jabbed a finger at Gwiboon, “How could you do this to me? You know how terrible it is to go to sleep every night? How much of a struggle it is to wake up in the morning? And you do this to me!” She couldn’t tell if her hands were shaking in anger or in fear. There was a coldness rising in her throat like nausea, and Minjung knew then that she felt both. All her frustrations, with her life, with her disposition, with herself even, started to spill out, and Minjung couldn’t stop. “This was one thing Gwiboon, one thing. I do things for you all the time but you couldn’t let me have this one thing.” 

 

“Because it’s going to hurt you, Minjung! This isn’t right. If it was for real, wouldn’t doctors have already come up with it? He’s probably just giving you some upper-class legal high.” Gwiboon didn’t stand up, but it was not at all like her to be unable to fight back with just as much fire. Joy flinched away from their loud voices, and it was the first time Minjung didn’t see Gwiboon soften for her immediately. 

 

“Minjung…” Jinki slipped his hand around Minjung’s wrist, applying such a light pressure that Minjung barely felt it, yet it encaptured almost all of her attention. He pulled her wrist back, though was careful not to jerk the rest of her back along with it. “Let’s just go, I can get you new pills. Taemin always has some.” He came close, breath hot against Minjung’s ear, and she distantly wondered whether he was doing it on purpose to distract her. Gwiboon stiffened visibly at how close Jinki had gotten, and wholly out of spite, Minjung leaned back into him, letting Jinki lead her out of the room with one hand carefully upon her hip. He barely ghosted over the belt of the shorts, but Minjung knew it would rile Gwiboon up. 

 

“Minjung, don’t do this,” she called after them, finally getting to her feet and following them out of the door. Minjung gritted her teeth, allowing Jinki’s warm body to push her with careful ease towards the staircase. His body, she noticed, was much broader than his clothing suggested it would be.”Minjung, come back here. I won’t just let you get sucked into this shit. It’s dangerous!” Usually, this would get Minjung retreating, tail between her legs. Minjung had always been weak for Gwiboon. They had been close friends for so long, stuck in the same strict roles. Gwiboon was fun-loving and lively, she always knew how to pull Minjung’s strings just right, knew just how to Minjung fall into place. Minjung was dull and focused, no matter the protests she put up, she would always end in the same place, Minjung the shy, hidden moth to Gwiboon’s bright, exuberant flame.

 

Gwiboon didn’t follow them into the landing of the staircase. She barely even walked down the hallway at all. Minjung could feel her frown digging into the back of her head like a knife. It cut at her until she felt her brain bleeding with regret, but Jinki’s hand had the authority. It guided her down the stairs, each one making Minjung’s legs shake, and out the building. He stopped her besides the door, pulling her away from being directly in its path. 

 

“Can you really get me more?” she whispered, pathetically. Jinki removed his hands, tucking them into his pockets again and studying her. He shrugged slowly, making the gesture take what felt like a hundred years. His gaze was just as warm as his hands, his body, and even though Minjung couldn’t help wishing that he was touching her again, his gaze nearly filled her heart with the warmth her body missed completely. 

 

What was she even  _ thinking _ ?

 

“Maybe Gwiboon is right. She seems so worried for you. I just got you out of there to think,” Jinki explained, turning his pocket inside out to tug the lint out. As soon as his eyes left her, Minjung felt cold and regretful. She had thought that her anger was right, was justified, but if Gwiboon and Jinki thought she was wrong… Minjung didn’t know what to think anymore. 

 

“Can you get me more, Jinki? I have class with Jonghyun so if you won’t, it’s not as if I don’t know how to find more.” Jinki’s head shot up when he heard the sharpness in Minjung’s voice, and he shuffled, scuffing the toes of his shoes against the gravel paving. 

 

“I can. We, we should go now. I’m pretty sure Taemin has class in a bit.” Jinki didn’t take Minjung’s hand again, instead jerking his head in the direction of the freshman dorms. Minjung followed him, walking just as close as she had been when they’d gone to her dorm, but Jinki seemed much less into it this time. He kept his hands very much to himself, and he barely looked at Minjung at all. They didn’t speak, and the sound of their footsteps echoing between them made her feel sick with regret. Regret: it seemed to be the only thing Minjung could bring herself to feel. She never made decisions like this, not impulsively or on her own, never for what she wanted for herself. Everything about it felt wrong, and yet she couldn’t make herself take the words back.

 

“I didn’t think Taemin would take classes…” she breathed, wanting to hear something other than the breeze and the laughter it carried from other people. Jinki glanced down at her briefly, inquisitive. She looked back at him, face pulled into a grim expression. Letting out a quiet rush of air, something close to a breath of laughter, he smiled down at the ground affectionately.

 

“Why wouldn’t he take classes? He comes to school here, he lives on campus.” Minjung rolled her eyes, exasperatedly, crossing her arms across her chest. 

 

“No, I mean, he seems so... enigmatic,” she elaborated, waving one of her hands in a vague gesture to try and make him understand. He tilted his head, observant and chuckling, so she tucked her hand away again, blushing. Jinki just laughed louder, throwing his head back a little in amusement.

 

“Like a wandering soul one might say?” he teased.

 

“You know what I mean. Like, he doesn’t look old enough to be someone you would just take drugs from three years ago.” It seemed like her extra explanations were doing her no good, as Jinki just laughed more, but it was much better than the awkward, almost argumentative anger they had talked in before so she took it. She looked up at Jinki with a little pout on her lips, pretending that he was upsetting her, and for a second it looked like she had made it look too serious: Jinki’s face dropped and he stumbled to a stop. 

 

“No, no! I get you. He’s actually about your age; He’s just a freshman because he started college late.” The smile came back to Jinki’s face and he caught up with her easily, though it still took everything in Minjung not to ask him what had happened. “I met him at church actually.”

 

“You took drugs from some stranger you met in a church?” Minjung laughed, thinking it too absurd to be true. The look on Jinki’s face told her it was anything but untruthful. 

 

“It honestly felt like a good idea at the time…” Jinki rubbed the back of his head, resting it on Minjung’s shoulder to guide her around a corner that she nearly walked past as he brought his hand down. “Like a God-sent gift or something. I understand now that I could have easily been killed.” He laughed about it like it was nothing, and it kind of unnerved her how easily he talked about it. When they gotten around the corner, Jinki didn’t move his hand off of her shoulder.

 

“Should someone be keeping an eye on you?” she asked. She didn’t brush his hand away either, “That sounds neither as smart nor as safe as I thought you would be…” Jinki shrugged, smiling in a way that made Minjung smile too, despite her knowledge that it was certainly not something she should be laughing about. 

 

Talking with Jinki had really distracted her from where they had been going. She had thought they were headed to the freshman dorms but, while they were headed in the same direction, they had taken a turn off into a side street that lead to where she had always assumed was just off campus. It was kind of dark for the morning, though Minjung had been so caught up with Jinki she hadn’t noticed until she felt a drop of rain cool the hot blush on her cheeks. She hadn’t even noticed she was blushing. 

 

Jinki threw his head back to the sky, and Minjung was inclined to copy him until she noticed that he looked so beautiful in profile like that, his eyes half-lidded and cloudy in reflection of the stormy sky. A raindrop fell and streaked from beneath his eye like a tear; Minjung tore her gaze away, heart racing, because it felt too purposeful… too elaborate to be a coincidental drop of water. Something heavy weighed on her chest, the sudden and burdenful realisation that maybe none of this was real.

 

It felt stupid at first, a fanciful thought, but the more she thought about it the more feasible an idea it became. In her dream with Eunsook, she had been in a city she had never known, and yet it had felt so real as she had traipsed through it, albeit briefly, as if she had known it for her whole life. With Junghee, she had kissed her in a moment, thoughtlessly and so realistically. She had felt something for her. Both of those things were true of then, too, with Jinki: she was feeling for him, clearly, even if it was not particularly something she was thinking about, she knew how her body was responding. And Jinki was leading her through some off-grid part of the campus she had never seen before as if it was nothing. She followed him as if she could easily trust whatever he was doing.

 

She looked to Jinki then, hands clammy with sweat and nausea-ridden anxiety. He was still staring at the sky, blinking slowly. His face was wetter, rain starting to fall more heavily and it all seemed to gravitate towards him. Minjung could feel her hair getting heavier with the weight of the water, and their surroundings were lost in a cloud of grey. If Jinki hadn’t continued to walk down a straight path, she would have stopped and turned back. Pushing his wet hair back, thick and tangled beneath his careless fist, Jinki looked back up at Minjung, grinning. 

 

“Doesn’t this feel like pathetic fallacy?” he asked.

 

“Who taught you those fancy literary terms, huh?” she teased , voice more wondering than actually asking him, but if he heard it he responded anyway, “It certainly wasn’t me…”

 

“Do I not seem smart enough you to know it on my own?” he pouted, tilting his head back down towards the ground. Water streamed down his face, dripping from his chin and nose like a running tap. Minjung felt a laugh bubbling in her throat, though there was still the inherent worry of unreality that stopped her from fully enjoying the moment. Jinki glanced up at her when he heard her stifled guffaw, and flashed a pair of delicately questioning eyes, which Minjung promptly looked away from. His hand on her shoulder no longer felt welcome, but pushing it away after so long of it resting there felt wrong so she let it be.

 

“That wasn’t what I mean-”

 

“We’re here!” Jinki cheered, completely cutting Minjung off. At first she thought it to be rude, like he was mad at her or something, but when she looked down at him, the glint in his eye told her that he understood. That he was thinking the same thing she was. 

 

_ Is this even real? _

 

The thought that Jinki felt the same way comforted her. Turning her attention back to the building in front of her, shrouded in a grey cloud of drizzle just like everything around them, Minjung could barely just make out a building like the one that housed her dorm. Large doors, tall and wide, with windows practically making up the walls. Every curtain was slammed shut, except one where she could barely make out someone’s silhouette leaning out of the window to look at the two of them. Jinki moved his hand from her shoulder and down to around her waist. It was not exactly something that she wanted, but it was not something she was willing to just push away either. His other arm was raised in a large, overhead wave at the figure in the window. They just stared at the two of them, utterly unmoving. Both of them stared up expectantly, as if the person in the window would disappear inside to come and let them in. They still didn’t move. 

 

“Jinki! And you brought Minjung!” 

 

Minjung wasn’t sure what it was that she had been expecting to happen when she saw Taemin again. She had not had one good experience with him, and she had figured that was not going to change when she begged him for some pills, but she hadn’t thought her body would freeze up. His head was poking out of a tiny crack in the door, hair a mess of black curls like he had just gotten out bed. Minjung’s skin crawled profusely as his eyes scanned over her body; he looked almost hungry, in a way that was so exaggerated that she wouldn’t if she was just making the expression up. 

 

“Are you okay?” She jumped at the hot feeling of Jinki’s lips brushing against her ear. He was so close she could feel his breath against her face when she turned to look at him, but she couldn’t bear the thought of looking back at Taemin so she stayed close. Jinki’s cheeks were becoming red in such a light way she could barely tell he was embarrassed. 

 

“It’s just- hard. To look at him,” she gulped, feeling a flush crawling up her neck as well. Jinki seemed to consider this, before he nodded slowly, unlooping his arm from around her waist and linking their hands in one entirely too-fluid movement. Minjung blinked, too caught up in the heated sweatiness of Jinki’s hand to pay attention to the fact that Jinki was pulling her along behind him towards the double doors that Taemin stood in. Only when she nearly stumbled on the steps up to the door did she cognise what was happening and her heels dug into the ground without her even registering it. Jinki looked back at her only long enough to mouth her a timid apology.

 

“This is honestly such good timing, Jinki, I was just about to call you!” Taemin said brightly, holding his arm out to put around Jinki as they came over. He withdrew his arm in one jerking movement when he felt the water fall onto it, like he was a witch who would melt at a single drop of it. Jinki stepped into the room first, though he held the door open for Minjung and gripped her hand even tighter when Taemin approached, eyes shining and examining. The common room they stood in was bare to the point of being clinical. It was so bereft of any life and colour- if it had any colour at all, Minjung could only really describe it as dark- that Minjung wondered how anything could thrive in such a place. It only took her one reminding look at Taemin to know that there was  _ one  _ thing that could survive in such a place. 

 

He really did look as though he had just gotten out of bed now that she could take a proper look at him. He wore only a dark thermal that clung to his body with sweat and some boxer shorts that had some rather unsightly stains at the front; Minjung daren’t let herself imagine where they came from. His dark eyes did not once leave her, and her skin crawled incessantly as a result. Had Minjung not been so prideful, she would have cried. She hated the feeling of his eyes. Unlike Jinki’s, or even Gwiboon’s, they were completely unforgiving, examined every aspect of her regardless of whether she wanted it to be seen or not. 

 

“What’s up?” Jinki asked deliberately, forcing Jonghyun's’ eyes to him. Taemin’s huge grin split his lips apart, reaching out again to usher Jinki and Minjung along. He lead them out of the common room without looking back once to check that they were following, an assumption that Minjung, if Jinki had not been clinging to her so desperately, would have gladly disproved. There was no elevator, to Jinki’s obvious dismay, as though he had never actually been in there before, but Minjung was quite content. She hadn’t done any good and proper exercise in at least two days, and her deprivation of it made her even more eager to sprint up the stairs and lose herself in the feeling of her breath leaving her, the sweat working up against her brow, the ache as her muscles were kicked into high gear.

 

Unfortunately, it was Taemin who was leading them up the stairs, and she could scarcely imagine going any closer to him than she already was, let alone leaving Jinki behind while she scrambled up an indefinite number of flights to a destination she didn’t know, at risk of seeing Jonghyun again or having Taemin follow her. The thought was enough alone to make her feel sick to her stomach. Clenching her hand around Jinki’s again, she paused on the landing of the second floor to bend over and catch her breath. Her body swayed with lightheadedness, an ugly sickness making her stomach roil with disgust. Jinki paused beside her, despite Taemin’s call from the landing above to hurry up.

 

“I just want those dream pills, Jinki. Let’s just get in and out.” She tugged her hand from Jinki's warm grasp. It took a bit of work, she had not realised how tightly they had been clinging to each other.

 

They stayed there for a moment or two, and, though Minjung could sense Jinki’s voice bubbling in his throat, were silent. It was good, because Minjung wasn't sure that if she opened her mouth for anything other than loud, huge gasps that she wouldn't have passed out or thrown up or both. Eventually, when she was a lot less than ready still, she straightened her back and took Jinki's hand back in hers. He squeezed it once to show that he was still there to take care of her and helped her up the stairs. They had to move slowly as Minjung felt the vomit still looming her throat and she knew that one look at Taemin would set her off again, which was much to Taemin’s obvious grievance. She could hear him pacing around on the landing, muttering to himself and occasionally calling down to check they were still coming. Jinki always replied in the same gentle and sure voice with a short “coming, Taemin”.

 

“Took you long enough. Come on, it's in here.” Jinki had soon guided Minjung onto the landing, standing a little in front of her as if he was trying to shield or hide her. It wasn't much use because of the considerable difference in height, but Minjung appreciated the effort. Taemin was already off down the corridor, had set off as soon as Jinki and Minjung had gotten onto the landing, and it was easier for Minjung to follow then so she rushed ahead of Jinki. He clung to her hand, staggering to follow.

 

“Taemin!” He didn't stop, he looked too excited. There was a bounce in his step, fluid and easy that him look like he was the model in a summer fashion ad. “Hey, Taemin,” Minjung called after him, speeding up to catch his attention. She almost screamed when she stumbled into him. He stopped dead in front of one of the old dorm rooms, right as Minjung caught up to him so they ran into each other. All three of them scrambled around to steady their footing: Taemin finding his feet first, had followed closely by Minjung. He stood up straight, not quite matching her height but acting as though he did, looking her dead in the eye.

 

“Yes, Minjung?” He spoke so pleasantly, the sweetest smile on his lips; it made Minjung want to throw up all over him. The worst part was that Jinki had been right. Taemin really had meant well. The genuine way Taemin smiled up at her, utterly focussed and attentive as if her words meant the world, couldn't be faked. And yet, she couldn't stand the sight of him. His youthful and innocent features made her want to tear the skin from her bones. His face didn't change the entire time Minjung stared down at him, grasping to find her words and combine her thoughts into something logical. Everything had escaped her when she’d touched him. Finally, Jinki cut in, seeing Minjung struggle for long enough. 

 

“Minjung didn't come here for a tour, Taemin. She just wants some pills and she’ll leave, please.” Taemin’s eyes didn't leave Minjung once, and for a second she thought he would have the gaul to make her say it herself before he responded, but then, with an agile sharpness, he turned to Jinki, glancing down at him with a tiny smirk that nearly looked wide enough to be a smile. 

 

“I'm sure Minjunggie can talk for herself, Jinki. The pills are in here for you too, Minjung. I apologise for the ones I gave you before, they were actually Jonghyun's,” he said, smirking at Jinki even when he addressed Minjung with just enough childish challenge in his eyes to make Jinki tug Minjung closer. She couldn't understand what was passing through their eyes, something immature like boyish possessiveness she assumed, so she wrenched her hand from Jinki’s tight grip and stepped away from both of them. 

 

“What do you mean they were Jonghyun’s?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest to hide her wrist. She clawed at it desperately, wishing it would do something other than mark.  For once, she wished her nails were as long and pretty as Gwiboon’s, rather than m trimmed and practical. She scrabbled uselessly at the inside of her wrist as Taemin turned his attention back to her.

 

“They were pills I made for Jonghyun. I hadn't made any for you yet, but Jonghyun insisted you had some of his.” Minjung tensed, blinking widely at Taemin. His little smirk returned but it held a heavier weight upon it. Playful. Teasing.  _ Knowing _ .

 

“You make pills specifically? I thought they were all the same?” Minjung shared Jinki’s surprise, though while his face carefully expressed his shock in a pretty, gentle way that Minjung stare for a moment too long, her own face stayed stoically blank. Taemin looked between them, eyes wide and sparking with even more excitement. He ran his finger along his lip as he looked over them, dark hair falling into his eyes. Minjung felt the crawl of his stare again and scrunched her face, turning her head towards the floor to hide the way it paled with sickness. It was so annoyingly disgusting what Taemin could do to her. 

 

“How would you get dreams if I didn't make them for you? Your brain doesn't create dreams like others do, I have to give them to you,” he explained, resting his hand on the door of the dorm room. “Come in, I can explain-”

 

“So you're drugging us into coma-based hallucinations?” Jinki didn't sound like he was asking, and there was an anger that bubbled beneath his words like boiling pot. He wasn't glaring, but a furious glint flickered in his eye as he turned towards Taemin. The freshman leaned back against the wood, reaching up with one long spindle of an arm to grab at the top of the frame. Jinki didn't smile, even when Taemin didn't stop smiling himself, but he did step towards Minjung again. Taemin’s head followed his movement with his eyes locked on Jinki's. 

 

“That's incredibly unscientific of you, Jinki.” Taemin let his eyes roam between them and onto Minjung. The blood dropped from her body, limbs tensing in cold. Jinki was in front of her in a moment, and Minjung thought in passing that it was pointless for Jinki to protect her like this. Now Taemin was no harm, he had no surprise drugs that Minjung would dare to take, she would barely let him close to her. And yet, she still longed for Jinki to hold her hand and hide her behind him so Taemin’s searching, knowing eyes wouldn't see her anymore. “It's not a coma, you go into to an induced sleep. They're not hallucinations, Jinki. They're real dreams-” Jinki scoffed so loudly it drowned out the rest of the words Taemin tried to get out. Taemin didn't scowl, but his lips twitched in something like disappointment.

 

“Where we’re lucid?” Minjung cut in, “They're like tailored hallucinations. People aren’t lucid in dreams.” Jinki nodded, slipping fully in front of Minjung when Taemin’s head shot towards her,  though she still towered over his head. Taemin leaned back further into the doorway, tapping his foot up against the door in an echoing beat that stung Minjung's ears. He simply grinned at her.

 

“They're dreams,” he said, certainly, sharply. It was such a different tone from how Taemin had spoken before that Minjung had to draw her eyes to him. The two stared with locked eyes for what felt like an eternity, before the swung open behind Taemin. He didn't trip or stumble in, but his knuckle whitened around the doorframe and his foot bounced a little where he had rested it upon the door. Minjung could just see Jonghyun's inky hair and tanned skin in the doorway, and she both tensed and relaxed in the most toiling way. That was Junghee. The Junghee of her dreams, who she’d kissed and knew that she felt for for the first time since Irene. And still it was Jonghyun. Who had drugged and terryfied her and… tried to help her, in the end. 

 

“Taemin, you brought Jinki!” Jonghyun said brightly, toying with his lower lip in away that echoed Taemin’s earlier gesture. “And Minjung…” he added, eyes flitting between the two of them shyly. Jinki completely relaxed at the sight of the other man, but his posture still stood defensive in front of Minjung for her sake. “Are they here to try the new pills?”

 

“The new pills?” Jinki blurted out, cheeks painted such a gentle blush that Minjung almost missed it. Taemin made a little whining noise that brought a much heavier blush come upon Jonghyun's cheeks.

 

“I wanted to tell them.” He didn't sound as though he was complaining, and the smirk was still firm upon his plump lips, spreading them pink and thin across his cheeks. Jonghyun flashed Minjung the shyest of grins before stepping back into the dorm. Taemin followed closely behind, leaving Minjung and Jinki to stare helplessly into the empty space they once took up. Slowly, Jinki turned to her. 

 

“You wanna get out of here?” He asked, nervously. His hand tugged at the bottom of his shirt and his eyes flicked from her face to behind her head. It would have been so easy to run out the door and never look back. She was sure that Taemin wouldn't care, nor would he follow them. Jonghyun barely came to class anyway. She wouldn't have to think about any of this again. 

 

“I'm curious…” she whispered, somehow. The words had left her lips before she could even think about taking them back, and it seemed Jinki had been hesitant too. Curiousity had a grip on them, and it dragged their heavy, unwanting feet towards the dorm door. It pushed open the door with Jinki’s hand and it showed them what they had wanted to see. 

 

In the middle of the floor, head in a wet patch of carpet and hair stuck to her head with sweat, lay Krystal. Her long hair was wrapped around her neck, tangled and held together with sweat so it looked like a noose. With the way he body was laid out- on her front- head tilted to side at an awkward, twisted angle, Minjung couldn't tell if she was breathing, but she  _ looked _ dead. Jinki had thrown his arms out in front of Minjung, the two of them turning back towards the door to hide from Krystal’s limp body. 

 

“Fuck, Taemin,” Jinki exclaimed, face white and so  _ frightened _ . Minjung fought to keep her expression blank but she could feel the pressure of a sob pressing against the backs of her eyes. It was a startling difference to feeling of sickness tickling the back of her throat but it was an awful change. “Taem, is she…?” Taemin was nowhere to be seen, probably hidden behind the door that lead to what Minjung assumed was the bedroom. Jonghyun was there though, stood next to the window and staring out into the misted morning. He looked at them in the reflection of the glass and it felt so absurd that Minjung burst out in loud, slightly hysterical laugh. Jinki glanced at her, before stepping over Krystal’s still body to grab Jonghyun's shoulder and turn him around. He looked up at Jinki with wide, surprised eyes, but he didn't once flinch away from his touch. The way they moved in tandem, shifting back towards Minjung without disconnecting their bodies, told Minjung that they were, uncomfortably for her, familiar with each other. 

 

“She isn't dead.” Jonghyun looked at Minjung like he was telling her good news, though she failed to see how Krystal’s  pale, static body could harbour any good news. “She took the new pill. I was going to as well but I saw you two coming down the street so I waited for you,” Jonghyun explained bouncily, gesturing to the windowed walls behind them. It only took one short look for Minjung to tell that that was the window the figure had loomed out of when they down below. Tension slipped from her as she realised that it had only been Jonghyun, and then she snapped back to attention. Jonghyun was no good. She shouldn't feel any good things for him. 

 

“So she's just sleeping…” Minjung said, voice a controlled level of calm. All she felt when she looked at Krystal, on the floor and looking  _ dead _ , was huge, uncontrollable panic. “God, you had me so scared for a second, Jonghyun, I thought she wasn't going to wake up.” 

 

“She's not,” he replied, quizzically, a tiny smile donning his pretty lips as he tilted his head. It was such an exaggeratedly cute way to express his confusion that his words completely flew over Minjung’s head. “She's not waking up.” It was Jinki who first spoke after Jonghyun said that. Minjung was frozen, fingers cold as frostbite and her heart frozen in place. The words were incomprehensible. 

 

“What do you mean? Of course she’s waking up. Krystal, get up.” He kicked her, carefully, in the ribs before Minjung had the chance to stop him. Krystal didn't even scrunch up her face. Her body rolled over a little, like he'd kicked a large rag doll, before flopping back down onto her front. Jinki stared. Minjung came next, dropping down beside Krystal’s body and shaking her viciously. Her body wobbled like gelatine but she didn't wake. Her eyes didn't move behind the lids and she didn't make any complaining noises as she gripped onto sleep still. She just lay there. Jinki and Minjung shared a look over her body and then slowly turned to Jonghyun. He stood above them, all proud smiles and excitement. 

 

“What did you do to her?” Minjung asked, voice soft to stop any anger coming through. She held her hand beneath Krystal’s nose to test for her breath, and for one heart-stopping moment there was nothing to feel. She readied herself to yell, to storm around the dorm until she found Taemin, make him tell her what could have possibly compelled him to kill Krystal, when she felt the tiniest twitch of air brush against the back of her skin. So small she almost completely missed it. She stared down at Krystal’s face and waited again for the soft touch of air. Seconds passed and then, like the tamest gust of wind, the cold swipe of air passed over her again and Minjung knew Krystal was alive. Just barely. “I asked you a question, Jonghyun. What happened to her?” Minjung repeated, much less hesitant to hide her fury. She could see Jonghyun flinch from the corner of her vision and she felt a sliver of gladness.

 

“The new pills. They let us dream forever. We can go into the dream world- any dream world if you ask Taem for some different pills- and you can stay there. It's like real-life.” Jonghyun was back to being bubbly, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. Jinki’s stern expression somehow deepened and he frowned at Jonghyun. 

 

“So, he puts you in a coma?” He asked, gently, like Jonghyun was a child and Jinki was about to tear his world apart. “He puts you into a coma, on the brink of life, and you're happy about that.” Jinki stood from where he had crouched on the floor, stretching out his limbs tiredly before he stepped over to Jonghyun in three broad strides. He stood right before him, hands resting on Jonghyun's shoulders. Jonghyun stared up at him with the largest eyes he could muster, innocent and confused and so, so soft. Jinki’s head twitched towards Minjung but before he could really look at her he was back to looking down at Jonghyun. 

 

“It's not a coma, Jinki, it's sleeping…” But it was easy to see how unsure Jonghyun was. His emotions shone through on his face like he had no filter. 

 

“And what do you think a coma is?” Jinki rebutted with a heavy sigh, taking Jonghyun's chin in one hand to keep their eyes together. “Jonghyun, how will you eat? How will you survive like that?” Jonghyun’s face screwed up in confusion, in anger almost. He looked so annoyed, but when he looked down at Krystal and Minjung on the floor there, it seemed to dim with uncertainty. 

 

“I thought you would be happy! You always said you wanted to dream with me, now we can!” he protested, shaking his head out of Jinki’s hand. He was acting so differently now he was, with Jinki, than Minjung had ever seen him. She couldn't tell if this was the real Jonghyun, or ifthe Jonghyun that had sent her out of the cafeteria and given her spare class notes, or if the Jonghyun that had drugged her, was the real Jonghyun. Jinki looked back to Minjung for help but she refused, just as she had with Taemin, to go too near him. While she didn't quite squirm around Jonghyun like she did with Taemin that didn't mean she wasn't disgusted by his presence. 

 

“I wanted to dream with you, Jonghyun, of course. And I'm so jealous Minjung got to and I didn't, after all this time,” Jinki sighed, moving his hand back to Jonghyun's hair to do as Jonghyun wished but still touch him. Jonghyun whined softly, so softly Minjung strained to hear it. “But I don't want to die for that world, Jonghyun. I don't want to have to die to dream.” 

 

“When you wake up in the morning, don't you want to die anyway?” Jonghyun snapped, but it was a gentle enough a sound to almost be just sharp speech. “When there's no dreams and we’re just nowhere, isn't that enough like death?” 

 

“But I don't want to be trapped in that. We can live our lives around the nights, Jonghyun,” Jinki argued, in a voice just as gentle. It was kind of annoying that they spoke so sweetly to each other, as though they were the only ones there, and Minjung rose to her feet to draw their eyes to her. 

 

“What are you arguing about? We have to get a nurse and call an ambulance!” she snapped, striding past the two of them towards the door. Her phone was in her pocket, but severely undercharged and the weather outside was not promising to even get any signal. Without Jinki, she wouldn't be able to find her way back out of the maze of side streets they had taken, and she could feel such an awful hopelessness building. It never really got to be a thought in her mind though before Jonghyun grabbed her arm. His grip, like Jinki’s was shockingly tight with no observed effort, and for such a little guy, Minjung couldn't help yelping. Jinki sharpened, straightening his back and reaching out to tug Jonghyun's grip away. The smaller man held strong.

 

“You kissed me. In that dream. You kissed me.” Minjung blinked blankly as though she had no idea what he was talking about. “We went to sleep at the same time; you were there in my dream like I wanted,” he breathed, staring up at her with starry eyes. Jinki yanked Jonghyun's hand away from Minjung and she hurriedly fell back into the door. Jonghyun looked between them, tearfully.

 

“Stop it, Jonghyun. Minjung's right, we can't just leave her like this.” Jinki gestured his hand towards Krystal, pushing past Jonghyun to scramble out the door with Minjung. Jonghyun was silent behind them as they made their way down the corridor, Minjung half a step ahead and Jinki hurrying to keep up with her long paces. 

 

“The hospital won't do anything.” Minjung stopped on the landing, turning back to face Jonghyun. He was stood just outside the door to the dorm room, shoulders hitched and hands fiddling awkwardly with his pockets. He was looking at the ground, but after a moment too long of Minjung staring, he looked up. “Well, I mean, they can try but there's nothing they can do. Taemin, he’s really smart. If he says she won't wake up, there's no way she’ll wake up.” Jonghyun took a small step down the corridor, towards Minjung. She hadn't spent much time with Junghee, but there were clearly the elements of her in Jonghyun: the careful way he walked, as though plants sprouted around his every step, and the almost musical way he spoke, his trustingness. Minjung could see it in the way his eyes grew, pupils dilating, every time he looked at her. He trusted her. 

 

“How could you want that for yourself? For us?” She looked back over her shoulder at Jinki, but he was gone, had rushed down the stairs without her. When Minjung turned back Jonghyun was closer, coming closer still with small, padded footsteps. His gaze swept across the floor, hard and a little frightened. Minjung wondered whether she could back up, run down the stairs before Jonghyun looked up at her, but something told her not to. Something made her stay frozen in place and watch at him until he was right in front of her, staring up at her with wet, glistening eyes, emotional unlike any she had ever seen.    
  
"I just want to dream. You saw my world- Taemin made that for me- and it's everything I could want," he breathed, "Why should I have to give that up, that happiness, for reality?" Minjung frowned, not sure what she should answer with. She knew the right answers: that reality was substantial, that it was real and worth more than a fantasy and that he shouldn't  _ have _ to want to live it because that was all there was. But Minjung wasn't sure that was true. She thought of the kiss she had shared with Junghee- Jonghyun- and how the realness of it given her pause in its honesty. She wondered why it should be that if a dream could be that real, that Jonghyun, or anyone, should have to stay chained in a world that was unforgiving and cruel.    
  
"Why Junghee?" she asked finally, "Why not be Jonghyun?" A smile spread across his lips, shy, and he toyed with the front of his shirt.    
  
"Because I don't want to be Jonghyun anymore. Life isn't fair to Jonghyun, I thought it would be more fair to Junghee," he whispered, "Taemin made it up for me, the name and what she looks like. I just asked to be someone else, and he did it." Minjung looked at the ground.    
  
"He can put anything in a dream?" she asked, bringing her lip between her teeth and pulling the dry skin away from it.    
  
"Ask, and he can make anything," he promised.

  
"How?" Jonghyun tilted his head, smile only growing wider and wider.  "I thought it was just what we imagined." Minjung hated how her heart melted at the way Jonghyun's eyes sparkled as he spoke, wishing she could tear all her emotions from her chest and be objective. The longer she looked at Jonghyun for, the more she wondered what it would be like to live a dream. To leave behind her life of shattered dreams and helpless looks and live where she could be whoever she wanted.   
  
"I don't know. I asked him once, and he told me ‘magic’," Jonghyun laughed, "Another time he told me his dad had been to Saturn's ring and that he got his materials from the rocks." He shrugged, looking back down the corridor to the open door. Taemin hadn't come out to check what the fuss had been about, but Minjung got the sense he already knew. "I think he's just really smart."    
  
They stood silently for a moment, Jonghyun's eyes on the ground by Minjung's feet and  Minjung's on the end of the corridor, a blank wall with a plastic potted plant at the end of it. At the bottom of her gaze was Jonghyun, and the door to Taemin's dorm to the side of it. With Jinki gone, no one to tell her otherwise, she was actually considering it. Just pushing past Jonghyun and grabbing the pills from Taemin's willing hand. He would give her anything she asked for. She could see Eunsook again, dream up a Junghee that didn't set her heart on edge. She could have Gwiboon and Irene and Joy. And real joy. She could make Taemin dream her up some happiness.    
  
"Why did you give me your pills instead of waiting for Taemin to make me my own?" she asked, finally. Jonghyun didn't look at her, even more obviously than he had not been looking at her before.    
  
"Taemin didn't want to give you any in the first place. He said that he couldn't make any more pills," Jonghyun whispered, stepping back like Minjung was about to hit him, "But, oh, you saw Eunsook! They were trapped, I'd never get to see them again, I didn't want-" he rushed it all out, desperate eyes dragging themselves along the floor to meet with Minjung's. She stared back into the dark pits of them, deep and never ending, so strikingly like the darkness of her sleep she felt herself be dragged towards them like she was in her sleep too. She stepped closer when  he stepped back and he tore his gaze away from her shoes. "I couldn't be alone there too," he finished, shoulders hunching defeatedly. "I was so desperate to have company, and I couldn't ask Jinki, so I had to have you." Minjung felt her body begin to cringe in disgusted horror- that was why they had drugged her, because he was a desperate, scared  _ child _ , and it was such a poor excuse- but she couldn't bring herself to step away. Because why had she taken the pills again but to not be alone? The dreamless nights, the craving for Junghee's believed-to-be-imagined affection, the fact that she had dragged Jinki to get more pills despite the convincing argument that she should stop taking them; what was all that but loneliness?   
  
"Eunsook is Jinki, right? Because you like him," Minjung said softly, not really asking, "You wanted company so you made Taemin make you a dream Jinki." Jonghyun crossed his arms, hair hiding the holes of his pupils behind damp locks and furrowed brows.   
  
"In case he came, I couldn't have it be exactly him. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?" he let out, voice suddenly cruel and cold, "Minjung, I'm so sorry. I never should have forced you, I thought you wouldn’t come again after that, I was just so desperate, I needed you to see that there was something..." he added, tone becoming much warmer again. She watched him with stunted interest, before blowing out a long breath of air.   
  
"And you're willing to give up real Jinki for something fake?" she asked, genuinely curious. Jonghyun scrubbed his hands over his face, like he was trying to wipe it away, and coming away with his lip between his teeth. His eyes darted around the landing and for a second Minjung thought she might have gotten through to him. But then his eyes lifted from the ground and he sighed.    
  
"The real question is: am I willing to take a fake Jinki instead of living in this world?" he said, voice dripping with sadness. And it was so completely overdramatic and childish, so not-thought-through. Minjung rolled her eyes, cocking out her hip out.    
  
"You'll still be living here, at least until your body runs out of energy. Look at Krystal, she didn't suddenly get sucked into her own brain, did she?" Minjung snapped, trying not to seem too overly aggravated, like Jinki had before. Jinki had been soft to Jonghyun and he had listened, but Minjung wasn't the softest person, especially not with people who didn't think logically.    
  
"What does it matter to you anyway? All I've done is hurt you," he muttered, face curling into a sulk. Minjung matched his moody demeanour, but his words struck a cord. She didn't actually know why she was trying so hard to stop him from taking the pill. It was true that he had done nothing for her, and yet, Junghee had done so much for her. Even if it had been staged... Minjung sucked in a breath of air and rested her hand on Jonghyun's shoulder like she had seen Jinki do before. It was warm and he leaned into it immediately, sighing out a tiny breath.    
  
"Jonghyun... Can't you tell Jinki likes you?" she asked. She actually wasn't sure that he did, but it felt like the right thing to say so she did. Jonghyun smiled, his head tilting towards Minjung's hand. She sucked in a quiet breath, trying not to withdraw.   
  
"I know he does. You think I wouldn't have noticed after knowing him for so long?" he chuckled, closing his eyes. His eyelashes shadowed across his cheeks like spider's legs, long and thin- like Taemin's legs. Jonghyun opened one eye when Minjung flinched her hand down his shoulder, but his glossy lips stayed pursed. "I just... I'm tired of being here. I've been missing classes for months to get more dreaming in. I don't know what to do anymore..." If that wasn't enough proof to Minjung to the pills were addictive then she didn't know what be. And maybe Jinki didn't show it as much, but he'd clearly been shaken without taking them. She didn't want to end up like that.   
  
"I'll tutor you. You and Jinki. We do it anyway, you might as well come and learn too," she offered without thinking. Though, if Jonghyun was right, Jinki wouldn't mind. Minjung tried not to be disappointed, "If you're worried about being alone, I'll be your friend, Jinki will. So will Gwiboon, my friend, she acts tough but she's really a sweetheart," Minjung rushed it all out desperately, suddenly needed Jonghyun to believe her. She thought of Krystal's body on the ground not 50 feet away and she imagined Jonghyun's body the same way; it made nausea come back upon her, subtly, in a way that made her feel like the sickness would never leave her. Jonghyun chewed his lip, eyes still closed. He seemed thoughtful but unconvinced.    
  
"We can ask Taemin to carry on making dream pills, right?" he mumbled, shrinking away from Minjung's gaze as if he thought she would be angry. And she was a little disgusted but it was enough that she could smile it off. Nodding affectionately, she looked down the hall again towards the open door. No light came through the windows anymore the storm was so bad, but she could see a shadow on the doorway, a misshapen man, elongated and climbing up the side of the opposite wall.    
  
They both jumped when the door slammed shut, Jonghyun leaping so high Minjung's hand slipped from his shoulder as they turned to look at the door. It hadn't shut, probably due to its age, and had swung back open. The figure was no longer there; Minjung started forward to investigate, she knew that Taemin had heard but was not sure what he was doing.    
  
"Taemin?" she called out. She felt Jonghyun grab onto her arm behind her, and she waited for him to slide his hand down to hold back onto it tightly. The room was utterly empty when they peeked in through the door. Utterly, save for Krystal still stuck in the same position. Minjung's eyes went wide and she heard Jonghyun intake air sharply behind her. He was up on his toes, peeking over Minjung's shoulder, so she stooped to accommodate him. The window was open, curtain blowing in the harsh wind and floor already puddling with the downpour. She looked around. There had not been much in terms of furniture or homeware in the room to begin with, but it was truly bare then.    
  
"How did he...?" She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes, as if the problem was with her. Jonghyun slipped out from behind her, padding gently around the room, touching each of the walls in turn as he inspected the hollow tomb.    
  
"Magic..." he breathed, leaning out the window. The curtains fluttered around his torso, and when he pulled his head back inside, he was dusted over with a sheen of water that made his skin iridescent. Minjung blinked again, this time at Jonghyun. His eyes had gotten all glittery again, full of mirth and laughter. Had Minjung not already been thinking, as she always was, she would have smiled at him. But, the two of them were unlucky.    
  
"Do you have his number?" She asked, raising a single eyebrow. Jonghyun cocked his head, unsure what she was getting at. "To get more pills. Do you have his number?" Jonghyun's face dropped like a weight. He scrambled frantically around the room, searching in open nooks and crannies for tiny pills or bottles or  _ something _ . All that remained was Krystal. Jonghyun coughed like he was choking, staring at Minjung with wet, hopeful eyes.    
  
"You have some! You must have some, he wouldn't have left me nothing. Taemin's not like that." Minjung didn't say anything, sorrowful pity clogging her throat. She had assumed before that they were dating, but she certain then that they couldn't be. She looked towards the window again and walked to it, stepping with great care over Krystal's dozing body to lean out. There was nothing to see. Beneath her was a small roof, jutting out and flat, but it was empty of anything but a crisp packet and an overfilled gutter. She couldn't see past it to the ground below, but it was clearly where Taemin had gone to, even though it was impossible for everything in the room to have gone with him. She could also make out a figure down on the pathway below, just a blurred, hazy lump of black coming back towards the dorms with an arm stretched above their head. Jinki. She went to call out for him when she heard Jonghyun sob behind her. She turned around, wiping the stuck hair from her face to look at him. He had opened the door that she had assumed Taemin hid behind earlier, that lead to a bathroom. Jonghyun was half hidden himself, behind an open drawer over his head. She skirted over to him, poking her head behind the drawer door.    
  
In Jonghyun's hand was an orange pill bottle, completely bare and stripped of labels, which had been replaced a pink post-it note. Written in nearly indistinguishable black marker were the words: THE THREE OF YOU HAVE ONE LAST CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE.   
  
Minjung knew what was in the bottle before Jonghyun popped it open and spilled the contents on the base of the empty drawer. Out came six glittering pills. Three shone that unearthly colour, matching the ones Gwiboon had thrown out, while the other three glowed almost, bright neon and almost painful to the eye. One last goodbye. Jonghyun sobbed again, a wretched, songful noise that drew Minjung's attention to him. Tears were streaming, mixed with the drying rain and tracking down the same trails. He pointed at them, staring at Minjung like he was pointing at a glass he had broken. With nothing else to do, she took the bottle from his loose grip and collected the pills back into the bottle again.    
  
"He really just left," Jonghyun forced out, voice deep and shaking with sadness. Minjung closed her hand over the pills so Jonghyun couldn't see. She shifted him away from the drawer and shut the door, taking his hand in her other one to take him back into the main room. He collapsed on the floor, feet falling into the growing puddle of water. Minjung crouched beside him, patting his back. For a while, the two of them stayed there, Jonghyun wailing softly. If she had been more careless, more emotional, less terrified, she would have kissed him- again- but as it was, she could barely rub his back. The sound of his tears was so heartbreaking Minjung could feel a tiny bit of pressure touching at the back of her eyes, though there was no way she could cry. It just felt awful to know that Jonghyun was hurting so. She wasn't surprised that Taemin had pulled something like this. But for what gain?    
  
"I'm sorry, Jonghyun," she whispered.   
  
"I have to take the forever pill." Jonghyun sniffed, looking up at Minjung with red and watery eyes, "I can't go a day with dreaming, forget the rest of my life. Minjung, I can't." Minjung leaned closer, shuffling until she waded in the water beside him.    
  
"You have to, I can't let you take that pill. I can't let you be alone in your mind. Not like Krys," she whispered shakily, clenching her fist around the plastic bottle. She wondered now if she could do it, take the 'forever pill'. If Jinki and Jonghyun both did, and if Jinki wanted to take it then certainly Jonghyun would, would she do it too? It would be better to be trapped together than for her to know they were alone inside their own heads.    
  
Jonghyun stared at her, tears still streaming, and she hummed out softly to him, wiping the tears away though they were replaced within a moment.    
  
"He's giving me one last dream, I get to choose how long it is. How can I pick to have a dream that ends?" He coughed, hands coming up to shakily brush away his own tears.    
  
"Because when it ends, I'll be there..." she whispered, hoping with every ounce of her being that that would be enough. She didn't find out, as the door swung open again, startling them both.   
  
"So, I just saw Taemin jump out the window... What happened up here?" Minjung turned to the Jinki. He stood in the frame, drenched in rain and frowning, his head tilted down to look at Jonghyun. Jonghyun turned back to look at Jinki, face still soaked in tears. At the sight of him, Jonghyun burst back into tears so Minjung tossed the pill bottle at Jinki instead of speaking. The post-it fell to the floor. Jinki stared at it, crouching down slowly and wrapping his arms around his knees as he read it.    
  
"What are we gonna do?" he asked, softly, not looking up at Minjung. It felt like the question was directed more towards Jonghyun than her. She answered him anyway.   
  
"Did you call the emergency services?" she asked. Jinki shook his head, spraying Krystal's bare legs with dirty water from his hair.    
  
"There was no signal, I think we'd be better off carrying her to the nurse's office..." he sighed, looking down apologetically at Krystal. She didn't reply, or even move, so Jinki stopped looking. He caught Minjung's eye again, expectant of a reply.   
  
"Then we take the pills," she said calmly. Jonghyun hiccuped, gulping down air to try and reply. Jinki raised an eyebrow, plastering his hair back to the top of his head with one damp hand.    
  
"We do?" Jonghyun gasped out, tears still rolling down his cheeks, but at least he had stopped sobbing. Confusion etched in the lines of his face and even Jinki who had not been there seemed uncertain of Minjung's suggestion. She flipped open the bottle and poured all the pills into her cupped hand. She handed one of each type to the other two and kept the final pair to herself. Looking between the two, she gave them a shaking smile.    
  
"These pills are all the same," she guessed, with confidence to stop the other two doubting her. "We pick a pill, we take it, and then we see if we wake up who wakes up with us," she explained. The other two stared at her hands, watching with hesitant eagerness. They wanted this; Minjung wasn't sure if she wanted it too. But Jinki's lip twitched up, and he came and crouched beside them both.    
  
The rain came down harder against the window, soaking the curtains until they dripped like rain cloud themselves. All three of them, soaked and beginning to shiver, sat in a circle in the puddling water, holding their pills in cupped hands and staring. Minjung knew the likeliness that the other two would wake up next to her, that they had been with the pills, the dreams, for longer, had lost touch with the suction of the dark dreamlessness. She knew, in some part of her heart, that she might never see them so bright and full of life again. Before either of them could start the countdown to taking the pills, she leaned across the circle and pressed her lips softly to Jinki's. They were warm, soft, full of affection. They didn't kiss, just held their lips together with closed eyes and furrowed brows until it became too much. Emotion overwhelmed her, and she felt a single tear roll down her cheek, carving a path across her damp skin. She pulled away slowly and then turned to Jonghyun beside her, leaning forward to kiss him too. She was more familiar with his lips. They felt exactly like Junghee's, glossed up and smooth, and they tasted the same too- like bubblegum and strawberries and hopelessness. She counted the seconds in her head so that she had kissed them equally, and then, she sat back where she had been. They gazed between each other, full looks, packed with longing and sadness and so many other feelings Minjung couldn't name them all. She never even thought she could feel that much.   
  
And then Jinki counted down, from three, resting his hand over Jonghyun's. Jonghyun did the same for Minjung and Minjung for Jinki, and when Jinki got to one they released each other's hands and downed their chosen pills. 

  
The last thing Minjung saw before she slipped in a deep, deep sleep was the light coming through the clouds as the rain took a moment to subside. Through the flapping curtain’s filtered light, she stared up at the three, cast solid shadows along the dorm’s ceiling. Her eyes hazed and the three blurred together. For once, as she tumbled into a sickening slumber, breaking out in cold sweat as the dream enrapt her, she didn't feel so alone, even if she might be for the rest of her eternity. She closed her eyes as a cloud came over the sun, blotting the three combined shadows to nothing.

 

And then, she dreamt.


End file.
